PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


SM/.. 


BX  7233  .P3  1885 
Park,  Edwards  Amasa, 

1900. 
Discourses  on  some 


1808- 


MEMORIAL    DISCOURSES 

BY 

Professor  EDWARDS  A.  PARK. 
8vo.    Paper  Covers. 


Life  and  Services  of  Professor  B.  B.  Edwards.    1852.    pp.  41.  20  cents. 

Professor  Moses  Stuart.    1852.    pp.  56.  25  cents. 

Samuel  Harvey  Taylor,  LL.D.    1871.    pp.  33.  20  cents. 

Samuel  0.  Jackson,  D.D.    1878.   pp.  32.  25  cents. 

ALSO, 
A  Discourse  before  the  Pastoral  Association  of  Massachusetts,  1834,  on 

The  Duties  of  the  New  England  Olergy.    12mo.    Paper.  15  cents, 


Notice.  —  Professor  Park's  recent  Pamphlet,  1884,  pp.  98,  on  the 
Associate  Creed  of  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  will  be  sent  post- 
paid, for  30  cents. 

K-1  W.  F.  DBAPER,  TuUisher, 

Andover f  Mass. 


DISCOURSES 


THEOLOGICAL  DOCTHIIES 


AS  RELATED   TO   THE 


EELIGIOUS    CHAEACTER. 


BY 

EDWARDS  A/ PARK,  D.D. 


WARREN   F.  DRAPER. 

1885. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1886,  by 

WARREN  F.  DRAPER, 
in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


/ 


PREFACE. 


The  ensuing  discourses  were  preached  during  the  years 
when  the  author  was  delivering  his  tlieological  lectures. 
They  were  connected  with  his  lectures,  as  they  were  de- 
signed to  exhibit  certain  practical  relations  of  certain  theo- 
logical doctrines,  to  show  that  the  doctrines  were  to  be 
revered  for  their  use  in  religious  experience  as  well  as  for 
their  harmony  with  sound  reason  and  divine  inspiration. 
The  discourses  were  not  designed  to  be  theological  or  doc- 
trinal in  the  full  and  distinctive  meaning  of  those  terms. 
Neither  were  they  designed  to  be  scientific  discourses.  They 
do  not  adopt,  they  sometimes  avoid,  the  precise  definitions, 
the  expressive  technical  terms,  the  logical  trains  of  argu- 
ment needed  in  such  discussions;  see  notes  on  pages  176 sq., 
232  sq. 

Here  and  there,  in  consequence  of  his  adopting  popular, 
instead  of  scientific,  language,  the  author  may  have  ex- 
posed himself  to  be  misunderstood.  For  example  :  in  his 
seventh  sermon  he  might  have  defined  the  doctrine  of  it  to 
be,  that  all  the  divine  moral  attributes  are  comprehended  in 
the  elective  preference  for  the  greater  and  higher,  above  the 
smaller  and  lower,  good  of  sentient  beings,  on  the  ground 
of,  and  in  proportion  to,  their  worth.  He  has  defined  the 
doctrine  in  phrases  less  technical  and  exact ;  see  pp.  156, 157. 
None  of  these  phrases  favor  the  opinion  that  all  the  moral 
attributes  of  God  are  comprehended  in  his  love  to  his 
creatures.  They  imply  the  contrary.  When  some  theolo- 
gians have  affirmed  that  all  his  moral  attributes  are  compre- 
hended in  his  love  for  the  "  universe,"  they  have  used  the 

(iii) 


iv  PREFACE. 

term  "  univ^irse  "  as  including  not  mere  creatures,  but  the 
Creator  likewise.  The  term  is  ambiguous.  Occasionally  it 
denotes  this  world  alone  ;  thus  we  read  of  poets  command- 
ing the  admiration  of  the  universe.  Commonly  it  denotes 
not  only  our  own  globe,  but  likewise  all  other  globes  ;  thus 
we  read  of  God  and  his  universe.  There  are  two  senses, 
however,  in  which  the  term  universe  comprehends  the  In- 
finite Intelligence.  In  one  of  these  senses  the  term  denotes 
all  intelligent  and  sentient  beings,  created  and  uncreated ; 
in  the  other,  it  denotes  not  only  all  intelligent  and  sentient 
beings,  but  all  existences,  animate  and  inanimate,  created 
and  uncreated.  Of  course,  in  both  of  these  senses,  the  term 
includes  the  great  mind  which  is  more  worthy  of  our  love 
than  are  all  other  existences  united.  That  mind  is  the 
larger  part  of  "  being  in  general."  Throughout  these  dis- 
courses it  is  implied  that  the  Creator  is  not  shut  out  of  his 
creation,  that  he  abides  in  his  saints,  and  indeed  dwells 
in  all  that  he  has  made  ;  is  rightly  denominated  "  Love," 
because  he  loves  all  beings  in  proportion  to,  and  on  the 
ground  of,  their  worth  ;  loving  all  in  proportion  to  their 
worth  he  does  not  fail  to  love  supremely  that  ideal  of  perfect 
excellence  which  has  its  only  perfect  realization  in  his  own 
character ;  loving  all  on  the  ground  of  their  worth,  he 
cherishes  the  supreme  aim  to  promote  the  glory  of  true  and 
pure  virtue.  This  is  his  own  glory,  and  includes  the  fact  of 
his  promoting  the  highest  possible  good  of  universal  being. 

In  their  original  form  these  sermons  contained  several 
allusions  to  past  events  which  have  now  lost  their  interest. 
Some  of  these  allusions  are  omitted  in  the  present  volume, 
and  their  place  is  supplied  by  remarks  not  originally  de- 
livered, as  on  pages  40-44.  Some  of  the  biblical  quotations 
in  the  volume  are  made  from  the  revised,  and  some  from 
the  established,  version  of  the  New  Testament.  When 
exact  they  are  commonly  distinguished  by  the  full  signs, 
when  inexact  by  the  half  signs,  of  quotation. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


SERMON    I. 


PAQB 

THE  INDEBTEDNESS  OF  THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY,      1 

ECOLES.   IX.  15.     NOW  THERE  WAS   POUND  IN  IT  A  POOR  WISE  MAN,  AND  HE  BY  HIS 
WISDOM  DELIVERED  THE  CITY ;  YET  NO  MAN  REMEMBERED  THAT  SAME  POOR  MAN. 

Powerful  influences  are  often  exerted  by  obscure  agents.  The  state  is 
indebted  to  the  clergy  for  their  influence  in  promoting :  L  The  comfort 
of  the  people;  H.  Popular  education;  HI.  The  political  virtues, — 
the  virtue  of,  1.  Sustaining  the  laws  and  government  of  the  land,  2. 
Ameliorating  its  laws  and  government,  3.  Cherishing  the  love  of 
country ;  IV.  General  Christian  benevolence,  —  the  holiness  which 
is  the  security  of  the  commonwealth.  Note.  Direct  and'  indirect 
influence  of  the  clergy  on  popular  education. 


SERMON    11. 
THE  PROMINENCE  OF  THE  ATONEMENT,        ...    45 

1  COR.  II.  2.     FOE  I  DETERMINED  NOT  TO   KNOW  ANYTHING  AMONG  YOU  SAVE  JSSU8 
CHRIST,  AND  HIM  CRUCIFIED. 

I.  Meaning  of  the  text.  1.  Is  knowledge  controlled  by  will  ?  2.  Should 
a  Christian  minister  everywhere  know  notliing  save  Christ  ?  3.  Should 
every  layman  know  nothing  else  ?  II.  Importance  of  making  ^e  work 
of  Christ  so  prominent.  Is  the  theme  1.  Too  contracted  ?  2.  Too  ex- 
tensive ?  3.  Too  monotonous  ?  III.  Methods  of  resisting  our  natural 
disinclination  to  make  the  work  of  Christ  so  prominent.  We  must 
have  1.  A  fixed  determination;  2.  A  loving  determination;  3.  A 
trustful  determination,  to  do  so :  we  cannot  rely  on  our  own  unaided 
strength. 


VI  TABLE  OF   CONTENTS. 

SERMON    m. 

^  THE  REVELATION  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORKS,    .        .        .      69 

PSALM  XIX.  1-4.  THE  HEAVENS  DECLARE  THE  GLORY  OB"  GOD,  AlTD  THE  FIRMAMEHT 
8H0WETH  HIS  HANDY-WORK.  DAY  UNTO  DAY  UTTERETH  SPEECH,  AND  NIGHT  UNTO 
NIGHT  SHOWETH  KNOWLEDGE.  THERE  IS  NO  SPEECH  NOR  LANGUAGE,  WHEBB 
THEIR  VOICE  IS  NOT  HEARD.  THEIR  LINE  18  GONE  OUT  THROUGH  ALL  THE  EARTH, 
AND  THEIR  WORDS  TO  THE  END  OP  THE  WORLD. 

I.  God's  attributes  are  revealed  in  all  his  works.  U.  Methods  of  the 
revelation,  —  by  signs  which  are,  1.  Naturally,  2.  Conventionally,  ap- 
propriate. 111.  Reasons  for  the  revelation  :  1.  Manifestation  of  attri- 
butes is  necessarily  connected  with  their  exercise,  which  promotes,  2. 
The  welfare  of  God's  offspring,  3.  His  own  blessedness.  IV.  Remarks. 
i  1.  Reasonableness  of  God's  retributive  administration.  2.  Harmony 
of  the  atonement  with  other  parts  of  divine  government.  3.  Harmony 
of  God's  works  with  the  feelings  of  a  devout  man.  4.  The  Christian 
preacher  an  interpreter  of  nature  and  revelation. 

SERMON    lY. 

THE  POWER  OF  THE  GOSPEL,      ......    97 

EOMANS  I.  16.  FOR  I  AM  NOT  ASHAMED  OF  THE  GOSPEL  OP  CHRIST;  POR  IT  18  THE 
POWER  OF  GOD  UNTO  SALVATION  TO  EVERY  ONE  THAT  BELIEVETH. 

The  gospel  includes  the  history  of  Christ's  active  and  passive  obedience. 
Its  power  is  seen  in,  1.  The  number  of  sensibilities  affected  by  it;  2. 
The  proportion  in  which  it  addresses  different  sensibilities  ;  3.  Its 
addressing  the  sensibilities  at  the  time  of  their  greatest  need  ;  4.  Its 
communicating  truth  as  a  personal  favor  ;  5.  Its  vivifying  the  truth  by 
sensible  images ;  6.  Its  presentation  of  contrasts ;  7.  Its  being  the 
centre  of  so  many  and  such  mysterious  truths.  Conclusion.  The 
power  of  the  gospel  unfailing. 

SERMON    y. 

UNION  WITH  CHRIST,     .  .  ....     117 

1  COR.  VI.  17.      BUT  HE  THAT  IS  JOINED  UNTO  THE  LORD  IS  ONE  SPIRIT. 

Believers  are  united  with  Christ  in,  1.  Having  his  specific  nature  and 
character  ;  2.  Deriving  from  him  all  their  excellence  ;  3.  Being  the 
objects  on  which  he  continually  and  specially  acts ;  4.  Receiving  and 
returning  his  love  ;  5.  Having  somewhat  of  the  same  destiny  with  him. 
Remark  on  the  strength,  dignity,  and  blessedness  of  the  pure  church. 
Conclusion.     These  thoughts  an  inspiration  to  the  pastor. 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS.  vii 

SERMON    VI. 
ETERNITY  OF  GOD, 137 

DEUT.  XXXII.  40.     FOR  I  LIFT  XTP  MY  HAND  TO  HEAVEN,  AND  BAT,  I  LIVE  FOREVER. 

God's  attributes  are  God  himself.  Difficulty  of  defining  eternity.  I. 
Proof  of  God's  eternity,  —  (a)  his  past,  (IS)  his  future,  eternity.  II. 
Remarks.  1.  His  eternity  is  harmonious  with  his  other  attributes. 
2.  It  increases  our  reverence  for  them  all.  3.  The  Redeemer's  abso- 
lute eternity  proves  his  deity.  4.  God's  eternity  is  a  theme  of  solace 
to  his  friends.  5.  Of  alarm  to  the  ungodly.  Conclusion.  Contrast 
between  God  and  man. 

SERMON    VII. 

ALL  THE  MORAL   ATTRIBUTES   OF   GOD   ARE   COMPRE- 
HENDED IN  HIS  LOVE, 155 

1  JOHN  IV.  16.     GOD  IS  LOVE. 

I.  Doctrine  :  AU  the  moral  attributes  of  God  are  comprehended  in  his 
preference  for  the  highest  good  of  sentient  being.  II.  Proof  of  the 
doctrine  from,  1.  Biblical  representations  of  virtue;  2.  Examination  of 
God's  moral  attributes  ;  3.  Past  history  of  his  dispensations.  III.  Prac- 
tical truths  resulting  from  the  doctrine :  1.  Unity  of  God's  character 
and  government ;  2.  His  kindness  in  his  severes*^  dispensations ;  3. 
Guilt  and  misery  of  incorrigible  sinners  ;  4.  Ground  for  confidence  in 
God's  government ;  5.  Inducement  to  piety.  Note.  Justice  a  distinct 
and  peculiar  form  of  benevolence,  —  not  simple  benevolence. 

SERMON    Yin. 
THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION,  .    181 

HEBREWS   II.  10.      FOR  WHOM  ARE  ALL  THINGS,  AND  BY  WHOM  ARE  ALL  THINGS. 

It  is  natural  to  seek  for  causes.  God  created  all  things  in  order,  I.  To 
promote  his  own  happiness ;  11.  To  promote  his  happiness  in  exer- 
cising his  perfections ;  III.  To  exercise  his  perfections  in  making  his 
creatures  happy  ;  IV.  To  make  his  creatures  happy  in  their  holiness; 
V.  To  make  them  happy  and  holy  in  his  manifestation  of  his  perfec- 
tions ;  VI.  To  manifest  his  perfections  in  the  redemptive  work  of 
Christ ;  VII.  To  make  this  redemptive  work  a  means  of  promoting  his 
own  frlory.  Answers  to  ohjections.  (a)  God's  glory  is  not  lessened 
by  being  manifested  in  promoting  the  welfare  of  his  creatures,  (b)  He 
is  dependent,  not  on  them,  but  on  his  own  perfection,  in  making  them 
happy  and  holy,  (c)  Men  are  not  profitable  to  God  in  any  way  inde- 
pendent of  him.  (d)  Tliey  please  him  by  yielding  to  him  what  was 
his  own.  Rcmnrls.  1.  Tlie  utility  of  the  created  universe.  2.  The 
blessedness  of  the  redeemed.     3.  The  strength  of  the  preacher. 


s/ 


VIU  TABLE   OF   CONTENTS. 


SERMON    IX. 

THE   SYSTEM    GF   MORAL   INFLUENCES   IN  WHICH  MEN 
ARE  PLACED, 210 

GENESIS  III.  13-19.  AND  THE  LORD  GOD  SAID  UNTO  THE  WOMAN,  WHAT  18  THIS  THAT 
THOU  HAST  DONE  ?  AND  THE  WOMAN  SAID,  THE  SERPENT  BEGUILED  ME,  AND  I  DID 
EAT.  AND  THE  LORD  GOD  SAID  UNTO  THE  SERPENT,  BECAUSE  THOU  HAST  DONE 
THIS,  THOU  ART  CURSED  ABOVE  ALL  CATTLE,  AND  ABOVE  EVERT  BEAST  OP  THE 
FIELD  :  UPON  THY  BELLY  SHALT  THOU  GO,  AND  DUST  SHALT  THOU  EAT  ALL  THE 
DAYS  OP  THY  life:  AND  I  WILL  PUT  ENMITY  BETWEEN  THEE  AND  THE  WOMAN, 
AND  BETWEEN  THY  SEED  AND  HER  SEED  :  IT  SHALL  BRUISE  THY  HEAD,  AND  THOU 
SHALT  BRUISE  HIS  HEEL.  UNTO  THE  WOMAN  HE  SAID,  I  WILL  GREATLY  MULTIPLY 
THY  SORROW  AND  THY  CONCEPTION ;  IN  SORROW  THOU  SHALT  BRING  FORTH  CHIL- 
DREN :  AND  THY  DESIRE  SHALL  BE  TO  THY  HUSBAND,  AND  HE  SHALL  RULE  OVER 
THEE.  AND  UNTO  ADAM  HE  SAID,  BECAUSE  THOU  HAST  HEARKENED  UNTO  THE 
VOICE  OP  THY  WIFE,  AND  HAST  EATEN  OF  THE  TREE  OP  WHICH  I  COMMANDED  THEE, 
SAYING,  THOU  SHALT  NOT  EAT  OP  IT;  CURSED  IS  THE  GROUND  FOR  THY  SAKE;  IN 
SORROW  SHALT  THOU  EAT  OP  IT  ALL  THE  DAYS  OP  THY  LIFE;  THORNS  ALSO  AND 
THISTLES  SHALL  IT  BRING  FORTH  TO  THEE:  AND  THOU  SHALT  EAT  THE  HERB  OB" 
THE  field:  IN  THE  SWEAT  OP  THY  FACE  SHALT  THOU  EAT  BREAD,  TILL  THOtT 
RETURN  UNTO  THE  GROUND;  FOR  OUT  OF  IT  WAST  THOU  TAKEN;  FOR  DUST  THOTT 
ART,  AND  UNTO  DUST  SHALT  THOU  RETURN. 

The  depth  of  this  truth  indicates  its  inspiration.  I.  The  fact  that  mutual 
relations  exist  between,  1.  Man  and  unsentient  matter;  2.  Man  and 
irrational  animals  ;  3.  Man  and  man.  II.  Advantages  of  these  mutual 
relations.  They,  1.  Lead  to  a  trust  in  divine  sovereignty  ;  2.  Reveal 
the  divine  equity ;  3.  Illustrate  the  evil  of  sin ;  4.  Persuade  to  holy 
living ;  5.  Are  the  means  of  eternal  blessedness.  Conclusion.  Analo- 
gies between  the  first  and  second  Adam.  Note.  Parallelism  between 
the  fall  and  the  atonement. 

SERMON    X. 
THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE   POOR,        .        .        .234 

MATTHEW  XI.  5.  THE  BLIND  RECEIVE  THEIR  SIGHT,  AND  THE  LAME  WALK;  THE 
LEPERS  ARE  CLEANSED,  AND  THE  DEAP  HEAR;  THE  DEAD  ARE  RAISED  UP,  AND 
THE  POOR  HAVE  THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THEM. 

The  internal  evidence  for  the  gospel  more  momentous  than  the  external. 
I.  Wliat  is  made  known  by  Christ  through  his  ministers?  The  gospel. 
n.  How  is  it  made  known  ?  By  preaching.  III.  To  whom  is  it 
preached  ?  The  poor,  because,  1.  They  ultimately  have  a  controlling 
influence  ;  2.  They  represent  the  majority  of  men  ;  3.  They  feel  their 
need  of  the  gospel ;  4.  The  preaching  of  it  to  the  poor  unites  different 
classes  of  society.  Conclusion.  The  divinity  of  Christ's  mission  indi- 
cated. The  preacher  an  almoner  to  the  poor,  because  he  presents 
in  their  combination  the  doctrines  which  are  adapted  to  relieve  the 
greatest  poverty. 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS.  IX 

SERMON    XI. 

CONSCIENCE, 260 

ROMAN8  II.  14,  15.  FOR  WHEN  GENTILES  WHICH  HAVE  HO  LAW  DO  BT  NATURE  THE 
THINGS  OF  THE  LAW,  THESE,  HAVING  NO  LAW,  ARE  A  LAW  UNTO  THEMSELVES;  IN 
THAT  THET  snow  THE  WORK  OP  THE  LAW  WRITTEN  IN  THEIR  HEARTS,  THEIR  CON- 
SCIENCE BEARING  WITNESS  THEREWITH,  AND  THEIR  THOUGHTS  ONE  WITH  ANOTHER 
ACCUSING  OR  ELSE  EXCUSING  THEJI. 

All  men  possess  conscience.  I.  The  functions  of  conscience  are,  to  1. 
Form  an  idea  of  the  right ;  2.  Decide  what  choices  are  right ;  3. 
Perceive  and  feel  obligation ;  4.  Approve  and  disapprove  acts  of  choice; 
5.  Perceive  and  feel  merit  and  demerit ;  6.  Demand  rewards  and 
punishments  ;  7.  Excite  anticipation  of  reward  and  punishment.  II. 
The  nature  of  conscience  suggests,  1.  The  greatness  it  imparts  to  the 
mind  ;  2.  Its  activity  and  tenacity  ;  3.  Its  authority  and  power ;  4.  Its 
influence  on  religious  beliefs  ;  5.  The  action  and  reaction  of  the  moral 
faculty  and  spiritual  character.  Conclusion.  Exception  to  the  law  of 
conscience,  in  Christ's  experience.  Notes.  A.  Authorities  for  the 
preceding  definition  of  conscience.  B.  Definitions  of  "  merit  of  con- 
dignity"  and  "congruity."  C.  Conscience  as  exciting  anticipation  of 
punishment.  D.  Theories  of  voUtion  in  case  of  rapid  motions  of  the 
body.     E.  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge  on  the  tenacity  of  memory. 


SERMON    Xn. 

INFLUENCES  AFFECTING    THE    CHARACTER  OF   CHRIST 
CONSIDERED  AS  A  MAN, 297 

LUKE  II.  52.     AND  JESUS  ADVANCED  IN  WISDOM  AND  STATITRB,  AND  IN  FAVOR  WITH 

GOD  AND  MEN. 

Wrong  ideas  of  Christ's  development  may  arise  from  too  exclusive  atten- 
tion to  his  humanity  or  his  divinity.  His  human  character  was 
affected  by,  1.  The  familiar  occupations  and  arts  of  men ;  2.  The 
influences  of  nature  ;  3.  His  familiarity  with  the  Holy  Scriptures ;  4. 
His  private  and  pubUc  worship  of  God ;  5.  His  temptations ;  6.  His 
afflictions  ;  7.  The  influences  of  the  Divine  Mind.  Conclusion.  His 
character  thus  perfected  is  a  faultless  and  complete  model  for  human 
imitation.  The  relation  of  this  perfection  to  the  atonement.  Notes. 
A.  The  sermon  emphasizes,  1.  The  truth  of  Christ's  human  nature ; 
2.  The  perfection  of  his  character ;  3.  Our  ignorance  as  to  the  periods 
and  rapidity  of  his  advances  in  wisdom  ;.  4.  The  implicit  reliance  to 
be  placed  on  his  teaching.  B.  The  minor  temptations  arising  from  his 
circumstances. 


X  TABLE  OP  CONTENTS. 

SERMON    XIII. 

THE  SORROW  OF  THE   REDEEMER  IN  ANTICIPATION  OF 
HIS  DEATH, 328 

MATTHEW  XXVT.  38.     JIT  SOUL  IS  EXOEEDING  60RROWFUL,  EVEN  UNTO  DEATH. 

Various  circumstances  would  lead  to  the  expectation  that  Christ  would 
anticipate  death  with  cheerfulness.  These  are,  (1)  The  peculiarities 
of  his  constitution  ;  (2)  His  elevation  above  the  race  ;  (3)  Tlie  ties 
binding  him  to  the  future  life ;  (4)  The  publicity  of  his  sufferings ; 
(5)  The  results  expected  from  them ;  (6).  The  providence  and 
promises  of  his  Father ;  (7)  The  general  style  of  his  conversation ; 
(8)  The  union  of  his  humanity  with  divinity.  No  adequate  idea  can 
be  gained  of  the  degree  of  his  suffering  :  1.  On  the  cross  as  an  instru- 
ment of  torture  and  disgrace ;  2.  In  his  sympathy  with  tlie  miseries  of 
men ;  3.  In  his  meditation  on  human  sinfulness  ;  4.  In  the  exjjiatory 
and  propitiatory  nature  of  his  pains.  Conclusion.  Christ's  reward, 
the  measure  of  his  suffering.  Note.  The  words  "My  God,  my  God, 
why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?  "  are  to  be  interpreted  in  harmony  with, 
1.  Christ's  general  character ;  2.  The  general  sentiment  of  his  last 
hours ;  3.  The  general  style  of  biblical  passages  relating  to  the 
atonement. 

SERMON    XIV. 

THE    RIGHTEOUS    MAN'S     SATISFACTION    WITH    THE 
CHARACTER  OF  GOD, 3^6 

PSALM  XVII.  15.     AS  FOR  ME,  I  WILL  BEHOLD  THY  FACE  IN  RIGHTEOUSNESS;  I  SHALL 
BE  SATISFIED,  WHEN  I  AWAKE,  WITH  THT  LIKENESS. 

Man  (a)  Is  not,  (h)  Never  was,  (c)  Never  will  be,  satisfied  with  earthly 
pursuits  ;  but  the  righteous  man  will  be  satisfied  (d)  With  the  divine, 
1.  Intellect,  2.  Sensibilities,  3.  Holiness  ;  (e)  With  being  in  the  divine 
image.  He  (/)  May  be  satisfied  suddenly ;  (g)  Does  not  know  the 
time  when  ;  (A)  Needs  a  radical  change  to  be  thus  satisfied.  Conclusion. 
The  discipline  necessary  for  the  change  should  be  welcomed.  Notes. 
A.  The  text  may  receive  a  Christian  exposition.  B.  The  retributions 
of  eternity  are  both  moral  and  positive. 

INDEX, 879 


I. 

TEE  INDEBTEDNESS  OF  THE  STATE 
TO  THE  CLERGY/ 


ECCLESIASTES     IX.     15. 


HOW   THKKE  WAS   FOUND   IN   IT  A    POOR  WISE  ISTAN,   AND   HE  BT  HIS  WISDOM   DELIV- 
ERED  THE  CITY  j   YET  NO  MAN   REMEMBERED  THAT  SAME  POOR  MAN. 

In  the  kingdom  of  nature  the  greatest  effects  are  produced 
by  occult  forces.  Magnetism  and  electricity  had  been  work- 
ing out  their  mightiest  results  for  ages  before  their  existence 
was  recognized.  Gravitation  is  a  latent  power  which  worlds 
obey  in  silence.  Throughout  the  sphere  of  mind,  also,  ener- 
gies are  felt  when  not  acknowledged.  By  the  force  of  an 
idea,  one  man  will  move  a  whole  community,  and  he  will  be 
forgotten  while  his  idea  lives  on.  There  is  a  class  of  persons 
who,  in  some  States  of  our  Union,  are  debarred  by  law  from 
all  civil  office,  and  among  whom  a  rich  man  is  a  phenome- 
non. The  spirit  of  their  profession  and  their  habits  of 
thought  disincline,  or  perhaps  incapacitate  them  for  pecuniary 
speculation.  They  are  persons  whose  rightful  influence 
comes  from  their  good  thoughts  and  good  character.  These 
are  their  wisdom,  and  by  it,  through  the  aid  of  Heaven,  they 
deliver  the  State  from  many  an  evil.  Still,  the  results  of 
their  labor  are  often  delicate,  refined,  and  therefore  imno- 
ticed.  The  consequence  is,  that  no  one  who  limits  his  view 
to  tangible  benefits  remembereth  these  same  poor  men. 

'  A  Sermon  delivered  before  His  Excellency  George  N.  Briggs,  Governor ;  His 
Honor  John  Reed,  Lieut.  Governor;  the  Honorable  Council,  and  the  Legislature 
of  Massachusetts   at  the  Annual  Election,  Jan.  2,  1851. 


2  THE   INDEBTEDNESS    OF 

It  may  be  thought  a  singular  and  forced  process  by  which 
this  description  can  be  applied  to  clergymen.  They  have 
often  dwelt  in  ceiled  houses  ;  they  have  been  the  first  officers 
in  the  realm,  and  have  held  their  foot  on  the  neck  of  kings. 
And  as  they  have  not  been  always  poor,  neither,  by  any  means, 
have  they  been  always  wise ;  for  it  has  been  said  by  one 
who  has,  however,  overstated  the  truth,  "  that  the  surest  sign 
of  the  divine  authority  of  our  religion  is,  that  it  has  not  yet 
been  exterminated  by  those  who  have  essayed  to  preach  it." 
In  lieu  of  delivering  the  State  from  harm,  the  State  has  often 
prayed  to  be  delivered  from  them ;  and,  so  far  from  not  being 
remembered,  it  is  impossible  for  the  millions  who  have  suf- 
fered by  them  ever  to  forget  them. 

For  the  faults  of  the  clergy  we  have  no  time  now  to  apolo- 
gize. It  were  as  unsafe  to  condemn  them  in  a  mass  as  to 
extol  them  in  a  mass.  Their  ranks  have  included  some  of  the 
worst,  and  some  of  the  best  men  whom  the  world  has  ever  seen. 
We  may  consider  them,  however,  not  as  they  have  uniformly 
been  in  fact,  but  as  we  may  reasonably  expect  them  to  be ; 
as  complying  with  the  tendencies  of  their  office  ;  as  represen- 
tatives of  a  doctrinal  system  which  is  better  than  they  are 
themselves ;  as  faithful,  in  some  good  measure,  to  their  pro- 
fessions ;  as  identifying  their  own  history  with  much  of  the 
history  of  the  gospel ;  as  "living  epistles,"  imperfect,  indeed, 
but  yet  fairly  expressive  of  the  truth.  We  may  consider 
them  as  they  have  usually  appeared  among  the  various  sects 
of  this  Commonwealth  ;  and,  not  dilating  on  their  highest 
usefulness  to  the  spiritual  and  eternal  interests  of  men,  we 
may  take  a  narrower  view  of  their  function,  and  in  this  grave 
presence  may  consider,  I  trust,  without  any  unfitness, 

THE  INDEBTEDNESS  OF  THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

We  might  illustrate  this  indebtedness  by  describing  the 
eflfort  which  would  be  needed  for  undoing  the  good  already 
done  through  clerical  influence,  and  by  describing  the  scenes 


THE    STATE    TO    THE    CLERGY.  3 

which  would  ensue  if  this  influence  should  now  entirely 
cease.  But,  pursumg  a  more  direct  method,  we  may  remark, 
that 

I.  The  State  is  indebted  to  the  clergy  for  their  influence 
in  promoting  the  comfort  of  the  people.  Other  things  being 
equal,  that  nation  is  the  most  secure  whose  citizens  are  the 
most  happy,  and  the  citizens  are  the  most  happy  when  their 
natural  sensibilities  have  at  once  the  freest  and  most  health- 
ful play.  Hence  it  is  one  aim  of  the  Commonwealth  to 
satisfy,  where  it  wisely  can,  tlie  instinctive  impulses  of  the 
people.  It  provides  a  fit  gratification  for  the  sense  of  honor, 
the  spirit  of  liberty,  the  love  of  enterprise,  of  repose,  of 
amusement  even.  Sometimes  it  regulates  prices,  forbids 
dangerous  sports,  encourages  the  fine  arts,  increases  the 
facilities  of  locomotion,  with  the  primary  intent  of  diSusing 
good  cheer  which  wins  men  to  good  citizenship.  More  than 
one  government  has  been  convulsed  with  revolutions,  merely 
because  it  did  not  appease  the  appetite  of  hunger  among  the 
populace.  Now,  there  is  in  man  a  religious  sentiment,  some- 
times noiseless  because  it  is  deep,  and  sometimes  the  deepest 
when  partially  repressed,  which  must  be  gratified,  or  man 
becomes  restive,  querulous,  tumultuous,  ungovernable.  It  is 
a  complex  feeling,  not  always  nor  in  general  involving  a  holy 
preference,  but  including  some  necessary  processes  of  our 
very  constitution.  Much  of  it  consists  in  man's  natural 
tendency  to  look  upward,  to  revere  a  power  above  him,  to 
feel  his  dependence  upon  it,  an  involuntary  thankfulness 
toward  it,  a  moral  accountability  to  it,  a  hope  of  being  re- 
warded by  it  for  virtues,  a  fear  of  being  punished  by  it  for 
vices,  a  dread  of  it  as  just,  a  complacency  in  it  as  bounteous 
and  loving.  This  religious  sentiment  will  and  must  be 
expressed.  Here  it  resembles,  not  the  fire  in  the  flint,  which 
is  struck  out  by  concussion,  but  the  light  of  a  lamp,  which  is 
itself  radiant.  For  one  mode  of  its  expression,  it  insists  on 
having  a  consecrated  order  of  men  who  shall  be  an  embodi- 


4  THE  INDEBTEDNESS   OP 

ment  of  the  religious  idea.  It  demands  either  the  priest  or 
the  minister  as  an  organ  of  communication  between  earth  and 
heaven,  —  an  organ  through  which  the  feelings  of  the  people 
may  be  uttered  to  God,  and  the  richest  favors  of  God  may  be 
transmitted  to  the  people.  It  is  a  dictate  of  nature,  that 
such  an  organ  be  required  by  men  for  expressing  their 
dcvotcdness  to  a  superior  power,  because,  themselves  being 
disturbed  by  the  turmoils  of  life,  they  confide  so  much  the 
more  in  a  selected  band  who  dwell  amid  the  stillness  of  the 
temple,  and  are  imagined  to  have  the  spirit,  as  they  are  seen 
to  have  the  marks,  of  peculiar  sanctity.  On  the  same  prin- 
ciple, it  is  an  impulse  of  nature  that  men  desire  a  special 
organ  for  receiving  their  choicest  gifts  from  heaven  ;  because, 
immersed  as  men  are  in  the  cares  of  life,  they  need  a  class 
of  teachers  from  whom  they  may  gain  spiritual  wisdom.  They 
have  a  faith  in  the  teaching  and  example  of  those  who  devote 
their  life  to  the  mysteries  of  religion,  as  they  have  a  faith  in 
the  instructions  of  professed  mechanicians,  or  philosophers, 
or  jurists.  It  is  sometimes  asked,  whether  the  ministry  be  a 
divine  or  merely  human  institution.  It  is  divine  as  the 
religious  sentiment  itself.  It  is  divine  as  the  human  soul. 
It  was  no  more  devised  by  man  than  his  constitutional  instincts 
were  devised  by  him.  Mr.  Hume  says,'  that  priests  may 
"justly  be  regarded  as  an  invention  of  a  timorous  and  abject 
superstition  ;"  but  it  is  a  superstition  which  cannot  be  rea- 
soned down,  nor  flattered  down,  nor  awed  down,  nor  sneered 
down.  It  is  no  more  timorous  than  our  very  conscience,  no 
more  abject  than  is  our  filial  affection.  It  pervades  the  wide 
world.  Every  tribe  of  men  has  its  sacred  orders.  They  are 
in  the  pagoda,  the  mosque,  the  cathedral,  the  meeting-house. 
The  rites  of  worship  have  not  been  multiplied  by  the  gospel, 
but  rather  diminished, — made  less  instead  of  more  imposing; 
yet  we  might  as  soon  find  a  musical  people  without  professed 
musicians,  and  a  seafaring  people  without  an  order  of  cap- 
tains, and  a  martial  people  without  a  rank  of  headmen,  as  a 
nation  who  receive  the  gospel  and  disown  its  Sabbaths  and  its 

'  Essay  X. 


THE    STATE    TO    THE    CLERGY.  6 

teachers.  With  us,  the  alternative  is  between  the  Christian 
religion  and  no  religion  at  all ;  and  therefore,  as  we  accept 
Christianity,  so  we  must  take  with  it  some  form  of  its  minis- 
ti'j.  This  ministry  has  indued  a  positive,  which  is  of  itself  a 
sure  basis,  but  this  basis  overlies  a  moral  groundwork.  The 
adaptation  of  the  office  to  the  very  make  of  the  soul,  is  a 
signature  of  its  divine  origin  ;  and  is  alike  the  cause  and  the 
proof  of  its  irrepressible  influence.  When  men  are  forcibly 
deprived  of  their  religious  counsellors,  they  refuse  to  be 
comforted.  Hence,  the  Gregories  and  the  Innocents  have 
regulated  their  government  by  the  principle,  that  the  masses 
of  men,  who  can  bear  all  things  else,  will  never  long  endure 
an  interdict  on  their  ministers,  and  therefore  a  monarch  can 
be  punished  most  effectively  by  silencing,  on  his  account,  the 
priesthood  in  his  kingdom.  For  his  people,  if  shut  out  from 
their  sanctuaries,  will  be  as  uneasy  as  if  barred  from  the  free 
air ;  and  sooner  or  later  will  trample  on  the  throne  and  rush 
over  it  to  the  altar,  or  else  will  persuade  their  king  to  make 
concessions,  any  concessions,  to  purchase,  to  beg  a  resumption 
of  tliose  soothing  offices  with  which  the  fondest  affections  of 
men,  women  and  children  are  intertwined. 

When  in  the  gloom  of  night  death  comes  to  the  first-born 
of  a  mother,  it  is  in  her  very  nature  to  listen  for  the  voice  of 
the  man  of  God  who  may  say,  "  It  is  well  witli  the  child." 
To  the  mourners  who  bend  over  the  bier,  and  take  their 
farewell  of  the  friend  whom  they  are  to  see  no  more,  there  is 
a  meaning  which  they  must  feel,  for  they  are  so  made  as  to 
feel  it  either  for  good  or  ill,  in  the  words  of  their  Comforter 
in  heaven,  who  speaks  to  them  through  his  anointed  servants 
on  earth.  As  the  human  sensibilities  are,  the  best  reliefs 
for  the  afflicted  will  not,  even  if  they  can,  be  enjoyed  where 
there  is  no  order  of  men  distinctively  and  divinely  set  apart 
to  administer  them.  Although  the  name  of  a  p'astor  is  seldom 
mentioned  by  an  historian,^  yet  the  real  unwritten  history 

1  There  is  too  much  trutli  in  the  remark  of  Dr.  Chunning,  that  history  "has 
not  a  place  even  in  the  mar<;in  for  the  minister  and  the  school-mistress." 


6  THE    INDEBTEDNESS    OF 

of  the  race  is  not,  in  the  main,  made  up  of  wars  and  of 
diplomatic  manoeuvres,  but  of  those  domestic  griefs  which  the 
pastor  assuages,  and  of  those  private  joys  which  he  hallows. 
He  supplies  a  want  too  profound  to  be  reached  by  mere  civil 
enactments,  too  delicate  to  be  touched  by  armed  magistrates, 
too  radical  to  be  left  without  the  care  of  philanthropists 
especially  devoted  to  it.  The  clergy,  then,  instead  of  being, 
as  they  are  sometimes  regarded,  mere  goads  and  stings  to 
the  public  conscience,  made  for  teasing  and  annoying  a  quiet 
population,  are  the  ministers  of  solace,  and  of  that  peace 
which  no  political  economy  can  give  or  take  away.  They 
earn  more  thanks  than  they  receive  from  the  government  for 
cooperating  with  it  in  multiplying  the  satisfactions  of  life, 
and  for  insinuating  a  happy  influence  into  those  recesses  of 
the  soul,  which  are  closed  against  all  other  than  spiritual 
appliances. 

II.  The  State  is  indebted  to  the  clergy  for  their  influence 
in  educating  the  people.  Every  land  should  have  its  native 
literature,  and  especially  our  land,  which  is  overspread  with 
writings  foreign  to  us  alike  in  origin  and  spirit.  Now,  the 
religious  is  the  most  durable  part  of  our  national  literature, 
and  this  should  be  in  harmony  with  the  genius  of  our  institu- 
tions. The  larger  portion  of  our  sacred  lore  is  in  the  products 
of  the  pulpit.  If  the  sermons  preaclied  in  our  land  during  a 
single  year  were  all  printed,  they  would  fill  a  hundred  and 
twenty  million  octavo  pages.  Many  of  these  sermons  are, 
indeed,  specimens  of  human  weakness  ;  but  the  frailest  vase 
may  hold  roots  that  will  far  outgrow  its  own  dimensions.  The 
themes  of  the  dullest  preacher  may  germinate  into  a  quick- 
ening life.  The  mind  is  so  framed  as  to  be  stimulated  by 
tlie  queries, — '  Who  am  I  ?  Of  what  kingdom  am  I  a  spiritual 
citizen  ?  Am  I  to  live  forever  ?  If  so,  in  what  realm,  in 
what  condition,  with  what  companions,  under  wliat  laws  ? 
The  Judge  from  whom  there  is  no  appeal,  the  Monarch 
whose  sway  over  me  will  be  without  end  —  how  can  I  gain 


THE    STATE    TO    THE    CLEKGY.  7 

his  favor '  ?  Now,  the  church  is  the  people's  university  for 
the  study  of  such  questions.  The  minister,  therefore,  is  a 
teacher  of  science, —  the  science  of  the  human  soul,  in  which 
every  cautious  man  feels  a  personal  interest,  —  the  science  of 
that  Great  Spirit,  whose  attributes  either  alarm  or  delight 
men,  and  in  either  case  touch  their  deepest  sympathies. 
This  is  the  science  for  which  man  was  made,  for  which  he  was 
made  inquisitive ;  which  has  already,  more  than  any  other 
object,  tasked  the  ingenuity  of  thinkers,  and  waked  up  the 
sensibilities  of  men  otherwise  lethargic.  It  arouses  the  reli- 
gious principle ;  and  this,  when  started,  sets  all  the  wheels 
of  mental  activity  in  motion.^  It  feels  after  the  truth,  if 
haply  it  may  find  it.  It  expands  the  character.  It  is  this 
principle  which  made  our  forefathers  great  and  trustworthy 
men.  Many  a  pastor  has  noticed  that  a  renewal  of  Christian 
faith  is  often  combined  with  a  renovation  of  the  intellectual 
life.  And  the  minister  teaches  not  in  the  listless  way  of 
writing  books,  but  with  the  living  voice ;  with  those  tones  and 
emphases  which,  in  an  orator  like  our  own  Stillman,  are 
themselves  almost  a  doctrine ;  not  with  the  voice  alone,  but 
with  the  hand,  which  opens  in  order  to  give  out  the  truth  ; 
with  the  eye,  which  radiates  a  thought  unutterable  by  the 
lips ;  with  the  whole  person,  which  bodies  forth  what  is  con- 
cealed within.^  And  instead  of  writing  on  this  science  for 
here  and  there  an  insulated  reader,  the  minister  preaches  to 

*  The  celebrated  infidel,  D'Alcrabert,  speaking  of  the  Protestant  Reformation, 
says  :  "  The  new  doctrines  of  the  reformers,  defended  on  one  side  and  attacked 
on  the  other  with  that  ardor  which  the  cause  of  God,  well  or  ill  understood,  is  alone 
able  to  inspire,  equally  obliged  their  defenders  and  their  opponents  to  acquire 
instruction.  Emulation,  animated  by  this  powerful  motive,  increased  all  kinds  of 
knowledge,  and  light,  raised  from  amidst  error  and  dissension,  was  cast  upon  all 
objects,  even  such  as  appeared  most  foreign  to  those  in  dispute." 

*  When  John  Adams  was  informed,  in  a  letter  from  a  parish  committee,  that 
the  cliurch-pew  which  ho  had  then  recently  selected  for  himself  was,  by  means  of 
an  intervening  pillar,  badly  situated  for  his  seeing  the  preacher,  he  returned  the 
following  laconic  reply :  "  Faith  cometh  by  hearing."  But  in  the  department  of 
oratory,  men  hear  with  their  eyes  as  well  as  ears.  The  full  hearing  of  the  truth 
involves  a  vision  of  the  man  who  expresses  it. 


8  THE   INDEBTEDNESS   OP 

a  sympathizing  congregation,  to  fatlicrs  and  mothers  sur- 
rounded by  their  offspring  in  comely  attire.  With  this 
animating  influence  of  a  multitude  upon  each  other,  he  com- 
bines the  influence  of  a  consecrated  day,  when  business  is 
stilled  so  as  to  make  his  whisper  audible.  He  speaks,  too,  in 
the  temple  which  men  feel  to  be  sacred,  and  in  which  the 
pulpit  is  raised  in  dignity  above  the  pews.  All  these  inci- 
dents, making  his  hearers  the  more  susceptible,  make  his 
words  the  more  impressive.  He  preaches,  also,  not  to  those 
alone  who  can  educate  themselves,  but  to  the  masses  of  men, 
who  depend  on  him  for  their  moral  instruction ;  who,  being 
near  the  basis,  form  the  support  of  the  political  system  ;  who 
are  continually  sending  up  both  men  and  influences  to 
invigorate  the  higher  classes  of  society.  It  is  one  seal  of  the 
Divine  wisdom  in  our  religion,  that  truth  so  disciplinary 
should  be  made  known  in  a  method  so  quickening,  to  the 
class  of  men  who  are  in  such  peculiar  need  of  being  trained  in 
this  peculiar  way.  And  here  lies  the  eloquence  in  the  climax 
of  Him  who  spake  as  never  man  spake,  and  who  specifies,  as 
the  signs  of  his  mission,  that  "  the  blind  receive  their  sight, 
and  the  lame  walk ;  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  and  the  deaf 
hear ;  the  dead  are  raised  up,  and "  (more  than  all  these 
physical  blessings)  "  the  poor  have  the  gospel  preached  to 
them." 

It  is  not,  then,  to  any  unusual  genius  possessed  by  clergy- 
men,—  for  often  their  character  is  disfigured  by  no  such 
excrescence,  —  nor  to  any  magical  arts  which  they  practise, 
that  we  must  ascribe  the  enlivening  influence  of  their  words ; 
but  we  impute  it  to  the  adaptations  of  their  office,  to  the 
inherent  fitnesses  of  their  message,  to  the  attendant  influences 
of  Him  who  blends  his  own  power  with  the  truth  which  he 
has  revealed.  Sir  Thomas  Fowell  Buxton  says :  ^  "  A  man 
must  preach  very  well  indeed,  before  he  conveys  such  a 
lesson  of  the  greatness  of  God,  and  the  unworthiness  of  man, 
as  a  view  of  the  heavens  discloses."  This  is  well  said  ;  but 
if  any  minister  has  the  soul  of  a  minister,  and  believes  the 

'  Memoir,  p.  203. 


THE    STATE    TO    THE    CLERGY.  9 

pure  gospel,  and  feels  what  he  believes,  and  speaks  what  he 
feels,  he  preaches  very  well  indeed ;  for  the  truths  which  he 
utters  are  more  radiant  than  the  stars  of  the  sky,  and  his 
soul,  if  duly  enlarged  by  those  truths,  is  greater  than  the 
expanse  of  the  heavens,  and  the  shining  forth  of  such  truths 
from  such  a  soul  awakens  and  enlightens  men  who  would 
sleep  under  the  starry  heavens  without  once  dreaming  of 
their  Author.  And  the  same  noble  baronet  who  has  now 
been  named,  and  who  has,  perhaps,  achieved  as  good  a  work 
for  the  imprisoned  and  the  enslaved  as  any  man  of  the  last 
half  century,  says,'  near  the  close  of  his  beneficent  career : 
"  Whatever  I  have  done  in  my  life  for  Africa,  the  seeds  of  it 
were  sown  in  my  heart  in  Wheeler-street  Chapel."  "  It  was 
much,  and  of  vast  moment,  that  I  there  learned  from"  the 
minister  of  that  sanctuary.  And  what  and  where  is  Wheeler- 
street  Chapel  ?  The  world  have  never  heard  of  Wheeler- 
street  Chapel,  but  the  world  have  heard  of  Sir  Fowell  Bux- 
ton ;  and  the  chain  of  the  slave  loosens  at  the  mention  of  his 
name,  and  Ethiopia  stretches  out  her  hands  to  welcome  him 
to  her  fond  embrace ;  and  the  children  of  her  schools  which 
were  founded  by  his  care,  have  learned  his  history  by  heart, 
and  will  engrave  it  on  bracelets  of  gold  around  their  wrists ; 
—  yet  the  eloquence  with  which  he  instructed  the  British 
Senate,  the  skill  with  which  he  gained  the  sympathies  of  his 
countrymen,  and  the  vigor  with  which  he  broke  the  bands 
of  the  West  India  slave,  he  traced  back  to  the  educating 
influences  of  a  pulpit  in  a  small,  weather-beaten  chapel  of 
Spitalfields ;  for  from  that  pulpit  he  learned  those  truths  that 
touch  the  most  elastic  springs  of  intellectual  as  well  as  moral 
enterprise,  —  that  are  subtle  enough  to  reach,  as  nothing  else 
can,  the  hiding-places  of  the  conscience,  and  to  make  it 
familiar  with  great  thoughts  which  make  the  mind  great, 
and  so  to  regulate  the  association  of  ideas  that  one  may 
find  "  sermons  in  stones,  books  in  the  running  brooks,"  and 
religious  lessons  in  the  starry  heavens  that  preach  so  well. 

'  Memoir,  p.  46i 


10  THE    INDEBTEDNESS    OF 

The  strictly  religious  truths  of  the  Bible  must,  from  their 
intellectual  spirit,  have  an  affinity  with  all  knowledge.  He 
who  is  curious  to  learn  them  is  the  more  easily  interested  in 
everything  which  can  illustrate  them.  The  sciences  pertain- 
ing to  the  works  of  God,  are  involved  in  the  science  pertain- 
ing to  his  character.  Not  a  few  mechanical  inventions,  even, 
have  been  made  by  clergymen.  The  world  has  been  enriched 
by  the  chemical  researches  of  Priestley  ;  but  he  indulged 
himself  in  these  as  an  aid  to  his  theological,  which  were  his 
main  studies.  Many  minds  have  been  expanded  by  the 
astronomical  discourses  of  Chalmers  ;  but  he  studied  the  stars 
of  heaven  as  moral  lights  to  guide  him  in  his  pilgrimage 
through  this  dark  world.  Much  of  the  ethical  philosophy 
now  taught  in  our  learned  schools,  is  borrowed  from  the 
sermons  of  Bishop  Butler.  The  sensibilities  of  men  have 
been  ennobled  by  the  architecture  of  the  cathedral ;  but  the 
sublimer  principles  of  this  architecture  have  been  discovered 
by  the  priests  in  their  aim  to  image  forth  an  inward  by  an 
outward  grandeur.  The  public  taste  has  been  refined  by  the 
music  of  the  choir ;  but  many  of  the  most  solemn  harmonies 
have  been  composed  by  the  ministers  of  the  altar.  It  is  the 
religious  sentiment  which  has  suggested  the  costliest  products 
of  the  chisel  and  the  pencil ;  for  whatever  is  grand  or  beautiful 
is  affianced  to  religious  truth.  More  than  one  Lord  Chan- 
cellor has  committed  to  memory  the  sermons  of  more  than 
one  Dr.  Barrow,  merely  for  their  inevitable  words  which  come 
from  a  hearty  faith.  We  infer  the  conduct  of  men  from 
their  interests,  and  the  interests  of  a  clergyman  require  him 
to  disseminate  as  well  as  to  gain  intelligence.  "  Because  the 
preacher  was  wise,"  says  Ecclesiastes,  "  he  still  taught  the 
people  knowledge."  He  discourses  with  a  freer  and  manlier 
spirit,  when  the  minds  of  his  hearers  have  been  raised  up  to 
an  interest  in  the  lofty  discussions  pertaining  to  Him  before 
whom  the  mountains  flow  down.  We  confess  with  shame 
that  the  preacher  has  not  always  understood  his  interests. 
He  has  often  been  afraid  to  learn,  and  still  oftener  afraid  to 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  11 

teach.  But  this  was  the  abuse,  not  the  use,  of  his  office.  In 
the  darkest  ages,  however,  he  made  "  the  benefit  of  the 
clergy  "  arise  from  an  erudition  superior  to  that  of  most 
other  men.  In  those  cold  ages,  the  church,  at  immense  cost 
and  pains,  fondly  preserved  the  literature  of  the  world,  even 
as  the  mother  who  lay  freezing  on  the  snow  wrapped  her  own 
tattei-ed  garments  around  her  babe,  which  she  warmed  and 
cherished  in  her  bosom.  There  was  darkness  in  the  world 
at  those  times,  because  the  messengers  of  heaven  forgot  their 
errand  to  preach  the  gospel.  They  deemed  the  truths  of 
religion  so  stimulating  as  to  be  dangerous  for  the  common 
mind.  Still,  even  then  they  betrayed  the  affinities  of  their 
office :  they  were  the  jurists,  the  arithmeticians,  the  rhetori- 
cians of  the  world ;  they  comprehended  all  the  sciences  and 
even  the  arts  in  theology,  and  some  of  them  must  even  now 
be  regarded  as  prodigies  of  learning.  The  best  universities 
of  the  Old  World  have  been  founded  by  clerical  influence. 
Nearly  all  our  own  colleges,  as  those  at  Waterville,  Middle- 
bury,  Hanover,  Providence,  New  Haven,  Princeton,  were 
organized  by  ministers,  for  the  main  purpose  of  disseminating 
the  religious  truth  which  loves  to  find  and  to  make  men 
intelligent.  When  Boston  contained  no  more  than  tliirty 
houses,  and  Massachusetts  no  more  than  twenty-five  civilized 
towns,  the  pastors  devised  the  plan  of  Harvard  College,  with 
the  primary  intent  of  making  Worthy  preachers  and  fit  hearers 
of  the  truth,  which  is  the  life  of  the  soul.  It  is  interesting  to 
notice  the  degree  in  which  divmes  like  our  Mayhews  and 
Chauncys  labored  to  make  plain  the  very  rudiments  of 
popular  instruction.  And,  at  the  present  day,  no  small 
part  of  the  minister's  energy  is  spent  in  aiding  the  teachers, 
animating  the  pupils,  preserving  the  order  and  inspecting 
the  progress,  of  our  common  schools.^     Without  his  genial 

1  Professor  Stowe,  wlio  has  held  an  important  official  connection  wntli  the 
public  schools  of  Ohio,  says :  "  My  experience  has  tausrht  mc  to  despair  of 
establishin<r,  with  any  permanency,  even  a  good  district  school,  where  there  is  not  a 
good  church  and  an  intelligent  ministry  to  watch  over  and  sustain  it."     President 


12  THE   INDEBTEDNESS    OF 

interest,  these  schools  had  never  been,  as  they  now  are,  the 
treasures  of  our  State.  Our  clergy  and  our  schoolmasters 
have  long  been  in  communion,  so  that  one  of  our  own  native 
poets  has  said  of  our  Commonwealth,  that  she  never 

"  Dreads  the  skeptic's  puny  hands, 
While  near  her  school  the  church-spire  stands, 
Nor  fears  the  blinded  bigot's  rule, 
While  near  her  church-spire  stands  a  school." 

There  are  a  thousand  other  avenues  through  which  the 
learning  of  a  clergyman,  who  is  what  he  ought  to  be,  flows 
into  the  very  hearts  of  his  people.  The  fact  that  he  is  a 
scholar  adds  a  power,  and  the  fact  that  he  is  known  to  be  a 
scholar  adds  an  authority,  to  even  his  common  words.  From 
such  a  man  as  Owen,  or  Bates,  or  Calamy,  or  Poole,  or 
Flavel,  each  of  whom  wrote  his  scholastic  folios  amid  the 
pressure  of  parochial  care,  there  went  forth, — it  could  not  be 
otherwise, — there  stole  forth  from  his  very  attitude  and  mien 
ks  he  strolled  along  the  by-ways  of  his  parish,  —  there  breathed 
itself  forth  an  influence  which  raised  the  aims  and  refined  the 
thoughts  of  young  men.  Amid  the  multitude  of  brighter 
names  which  have  adorned  the  pulpit,  we  seldom  hear  of 
Robert  Bolton,  who  published  five  theological  quartos,  trans- 
lated the  whole  of  Homer,  and  commented  on  the  wbole  of 
Aquinas,  and  studied  the  Fathers  as  if  he  cared  nothing  for 
his  contemporaries ;  yet  this  same  divine  associated  with  his 
contemporaries  as  if  he  cared  nothing  for  the  Fathers,  and 
in  his  daily  walks  through  the  lanes  of  his  precinct,  he  bore 
the  results  of  his  multifarious  learning  to  the  doors  of  the 

Sears,  once  the  indefatigable  Secretary  of  the  Massachusetts  Board  of  Education, 
says :  "  The  efficient  coadjutors  which  I  have  had  the  happiness  to  find  in  all 
parts  of  the  State,  while  engaged  in  niy  official  duties,  belong  to  no  one  profession 
or  class  of  men.  It  may,  however,  be  said,  without  any  injustice  to  others,  that 
the  clergy,  of  evciy  name,  in  the  Commonwealth,  have  been  second  to  no  other 
men  in  respect  to  an  enlightened  policy  and  energetic  action  in  promoting  the 
education  of  the  people." 


THE  STATE  TO  TUE  CLERGY.  13 

humblest  peasantry.  On  one  page  in  the  life  of  Baxter  we 
read  of  his  toiling,  amid  pains  and  faintness,  over  the  last  of 
the  hundred  and  sixty-six  treatises  which  he  wrote  for  the 
press ;  and  on  another  page  we  read  of  him  laden  with  the 
fruits  of  his  erudition,  and  diffusing  the  influence  of  it  among 
the  inmates  of  a  hovel  at  Kidderminster.  It  is  told  of  an 
ancient  astronomer,  that  when  reproved  for  his  want  of  pa- 
triotism, he  defended  himself  by  pleading,  "  My  country  is  in 
the  heavens."  But  we  read  of  Jonathan  Edwards  writing  at 
one  hour  of  the  day,  which  he  calls  his  leisure  hour,  that 
Treatise  on  the  Will  which  David  Hume  and  Dugald  Stewart 
and  Sir  James  Mackintosh  ranked  with  the  works  of  Locke 
and  Leibnitz ;  and  at  another,  which  was  his  business  hour, 
mingling  as  a  father  with  the  untutored  Lidians  of  his  neigh- 
borliood,  preaching  once  in  a  week  to  the  Mohawks,  and  once 
in  a  week  to  the  Housatunnucks,  and  often  catechizing  their 
vagrant  children.  His  country,  too,  was  in  the  heavens  ;  but 
it  was  pleasant  for  him  to  walk  thither  hand  in  hand  with  the 
poor  pilgrims,  who  might  otherwise  wander  far  away  from 
the  home  of  the  Great  Spirit. 

I  know  that  men  like  these  do  not  appear  every  day  and 
everywhere,  but  the  difference  is  often  in  degree, not  in  kind; 
for  in  many  a  New  England  hamlet  there  is  now  a  parsonage 
where  tlie  gems  of  sacred  lore  are  treasured  up,  where  the 
spirit  of  the  patriarch  is  refined  by  a  patient  and  liberal 
culture;  but  while  the  world  is  running  out  in  search  of  noisy 
captains  who  boast  themselves  to  be  patriots,  and  escorting 
them  in  long  processions,  "  all  the  while  sonorous  metal " 
breathing  martial  sounds,  this  man,  whose  inward  worth  is 
equal  to  his  freedom  from  outward  display,  and  who  might 
have  been  famed  in  the  senate  had  he  not  cliosen  to  minister 
unto  the  necessities  of  the  saints,  is  now  living  as  the  educa- 
tor of  a  retired  parish,  speaking  a  word  in  season  to  herds- 
men's boys,  and  imitating  while  he  serves  the  great  Teacher 
who  said,  "  Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto  me,  and 
forbid  them  not ;  "  but  from  the  circle  of  hardy  youths  who 


14  THE   INDEBTEDNESS   OF 

enjoy  his  counsel  there  will  come  forth  robust  and  earnest 
scholars,  who  will  invigorate  the  literature  of  their  country, 
and  gather  to  themselves  the  honors  of  the  State,  while  no 
one  remembereth  the  poor  wise  man  who  delivered  them  from 
their  ignorance  ;  but  he  toils  on,  willing  to  be  obscure,  so  he 
may  humbly  serve  his  generation,  and  waiting  with  a  resigned 
and  pensive  spirit  for  the  day  when  he  shall  be  borne  by  a  few 
devout  men  to  his  burial,  and  when  he  who  hath  been  faith- 
ful over  a  few  things  shall  be  made  ruler  over  many  things, 
and  shall  enter  with  loud  acclaim  into  the  joy  of  his  Lord. 

III.  The  State  is  indebted  to  the  clergy  for  their  influence 
in  promoting  the  political  virtues.  So  gentle  and  well-nigh 
domestic  is  the  pastor's  vocation,  as  in  the  view  of  some  to 
steal  away  his  manly  energy.  Yet  the  very  men  who  are 
most  inclined  to  smile  at  what  they  term  his  effeminate 
manners,  are  the  most  sensitive  to  his  interference  with 
politics.  They  cannot  forgive  it  unless  it  be  what  they 
significantly  call,  "on  the  right  side^  The  reason  is,  that  his 
words,  homely  as  they  may  seem,  come  with  a  power  peculiar 
to  his  office,  and  therefore  go  down  into  the  recesses  of  the 
soul,  made  as  it  is  for  religious  appeal.^  Hence  he  is  suspected 
of  unfairness,  when  he  gives  up  to  a  party,  what  is  required 
for  the  common  good.  He  should  be  wise,  then,  in  setting 
bounds  to  his  political  activity.  He  should  be  careful  that 
his  political  influence  not  only  be,  but  also  seem  to  be,  in 
behalf  of  virtue.  He  should  be  and  appear  to  be  solicitous, 
not  so  much  for  the  outward  forms  as  for  the  moral  spirit 
of  politics.  Hence  he  should  never  be  vociferous  in  civil 
affairs,  so  as  to  let  the  minister  be  lost  sight  of  in  the  politi- 
cian. His  influence  on  those  affairs  will  be  greater  and 
better,  if  he  make  them  secondary  to  his  more  spiritual 
duties.     He  loses  his  political  influence  if  he  think  too  much 

1  "  Many  [State]  constitutions  exclude  the  clergy  fiom  voting,  because  their 
influence,  always  great,  is  feared  if  they  interfere  with  politics."  Lieber's  Politi- 
cal Ethics,  Part  II.,  p.  268. 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  15 

of  it.  He  must  never  contend  in  such  a  way  for  the  interests 
of  this  world,  as  to  mar  the  felicity  of  his  pleading  for  the 
interests  of  another.  His  general  rule  should  be,  to  make 
the  Sabbath  a  day  of  rest,  and  the  sanctuary  a  place  of  rest, 
for  friends  and  foes  who  are  wearied  with  their  earthly 
strifes.  His  habits  and  his  sympathies  disqualify  him  for  the 
personal  details  of  politics.  When  he  goes  far  beyond  the 
discussion  of  principles  into  a  mere  partisanship  for  men,'  he 
is  out  of  his  sphere,  and  that  simplicity  which  is  and  ought 
to  be  his  most  amiable  virtue,  is  the  means  of  his  being  de- 
ceived into  wrong  estimates  of  character.  Still  he  is  a  man, 
a  citizen,  a  teacher,  a  moral  guide,  and  as  such  he  must  utter 
many  truths  relating  to  our  civil  duties.  He  must,  for  ex- 
ample, exhort  his  hearers  to  "  owe  no  man  anything,"  even 
if  he  should  be  suspected  of  looking  toward  some  laws  about 
fraudulent  bankruptcy  and  repudiation.  As  the  theology  of 
the  pulpit  is  linked  with  all  sciences,  so  is  its  religion  with  all 
virtues.  Politics  cannot  be  sealed  up  hermetically  against 
moral  influence.  Like  the  air  of  heaven,  this  influence  per- 
vades every  sphere  of  life.  Welcomed  or  opposed,  it  must  be 
met,2  Religion  will  either  refine  politics,  or  politics  will  con- 
taminate religion.  In  self-defence,  therefore,  as  well  as  in 
fealty  to  the  State,  the  minister  pleads  for  the  duties  of  good 
citizenship.  It  is  one  divine  signature  of  his  religion,  that 
the  same  virtues  which  it  demands  without  reasoning  and 
merely  as  enjoined  by  God,  are  reasoned  out  by  the  physiolo- 
gist to  be  promotive  of  health,  and  by  the  statesman  to  be 
needed  for  the  national  growth.  The  germs  of  political  ethics 
are  thus  in  the  Bible.  By  a  train  of  religious  sentiment, 
Fenelon  unfolded  the  essential  principles  which  Adam  Smith 

^  There  is  an  obvious  difference  between  the  discussion  of  political  principles 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  meddling  with  politics  on  the  other. 

*  "  To  be  a  real  patriot,  a  man  must  consider  his  countrymen  as  God's  crea- 
tures, and  himself  as  accountable  for  his  acting  towards  them.  If  jrro  mis  rt 
focis  be  the  life  of  patriotism,  he  who  hath  no  religion  and  no  home,  makes  a 
suspected  patriot."  —  Berkeley's  Maxims  concerning  Patriotism. 


16  THE   INDEBTEDNESS    OF 

afterwards  erected  into  the  new  science  of  Political  Economj. 
In  an  indirect  way,  the  minister  is  a  politician  when  he  ex- 
plains and  enforces,  as  he  does  so  often,  the  duties  of  parents 
and  children ;  for  these  duties  are  essential  to  the  order  of 
the  family  ;  this  order,  as  it  represents  in  miniature,  so  it  fa- 
cilitates the  government  of,  a  nation.  A  family  is  the  cement 
of  the  political  system  ;  and  unless  it  be  carefully  watched, 
the  Commonwealth  will  not  be  peacefully  ruled.  But  all  his- 
tory proves  that  the  virtues  of  the  household  will  not  be  long- 
preserved,  where  they  are  not  fostered  by  those  ministers  of 
the  church  who,  in  their  lowly  services,  are  among  the  best 
ministers  of  the  State.  At  the  commencement  of  the  last 
half  century,  some  islands  of  the  sea  were  sunk  in  the  deep- 
est barbarism,  but  now  send  their  ambassadors  to  the  courts 
of  Europe.  A  few  preachers  from  New  England  carried  to 
them  the  story  of  that  remarkable  personage  who  came  to  be 
a  model  for  the  child  and  the  parent,  the  scholar  and  the 
teacher,  the  layman  and  the  priest,  the  fellow-citizen  and  the 
judge,  the  servant  and  the  lawgiver,  the  subject  and  the  king, 
the  vanquished  and  the  conqueror  ;  —  and  that  story  makes 
men  think  of  political  maxims  which  it  does  not  expressly 
mention,  and  gives  men  one  link  which  draws  after  it  the 
whole  chain  of  political  virtues.^ 

One  of  these  virtues,  which  the  clergy  are  inclined  by  the 
very  genius  of  their  office  to  encourage,  is  that  of  sustaining 
the  laws  and  government  of  the  land.  A  church-going  are  apt 
to  be  a  law-abiding  people.  Their  pastor  has  a  professional 
regard  for  law.  He  loves  its  moral  influence.  He  esteems  a 
good  statute  as  a  sermon,  and  obedience  to  it  as  a  prepara- 
tive for  acquiescence  in  the  divine  will.  He  represents  re- 
ligion as  consisting  in  this  acquiescence,  and  he  fears  that 
men  who  love  to  disobey  the  ruler  whom  they  have  seen,  will 
also  disobey  the  Sovereign  whom  they  have  not  seen.     His 

'  The  Sandwich  Islanders  have  more  than  once  forwarded  money  to  the 
United  States,  in  aid  of  our  National  charities. 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  17 

oflfice  is  to  prove  that  the  true  submission  to  government  in- 
volves a  benevolent  regard  to  the  common  good  ;  that  it  is 
therefore  not  pusillanimous,  but  a  noble  virtue  ;  and  as  men 
must  love  the  law  of  God  in  order  to  acquiesce  in  the  gospel, 
so  they  must  obey  the  laws  of  man  in  order  to  enjoy  true 
freedom. 

He  teaches,  indeed,  on  the  principles  of  natural  reason, 
that  civil  government  is  of  divine  origin  ;  not  merely  because 
it  exists  in  the  providence  of  God,  for  sin  itself  exists  in  the 
same  providence,  without  having  God  for  its  author.  But 
civil  government  is  of  divine  origin,  because  and  so  far  forth 
as,  it  is  prompted  by  those  normal  instincts  within  us  which 
are  of  divine  workmanship.  Our  Maker  has  given  us  a 
tendency  to  revere  and  obey  magistrates.  Speaking  through 
our  constitution,  then,  he  has  ordained  them.  And  as  gov- 
ernment comes  thus  from  a  divine  impulse,  so  it  has  a  divine 
right ;  not  merely  because  it  is  providentially  so  strong  that 
it  cannot  be  resisted,  and  therefore  ought  to  be  welcomed, 
for  a  pestilence  or  an  inundation  may  be  providentially  irre- 
sistible and  still  not  desirable.  But  government  is  of  divine 
right,  because  and  so  far  forth  as  it  is  adapted  to  our  natural 
and  fitting  wants.  These  wants  are  from  God  ;  they  indicate 
the  supply  which  is  needed  for  them  ;  tliis  supply  is  political 
government ;  this  government,  then,  as  it  is  suited  by  nature 
to  a  demand  existing  by  nature,  must  be  sanctioned  by  the 
Author  of  that  nature.  He  loves  to  promote  our  welfare  ; 
our  welfare  is  advanced  by  the  institutions  which  are  fitted 
to  the  structure  of  our  minds  ;  these  beneficent  institutions, 
therefore,  arc  authorized  as  well  as  originated  by  him  Avho 
has  incited  us  to  devise,  by  causing  us  to  demand  them. 
Thus  we  claim  a  divine  authority  for  the  marriage  relation 
and  for  the  family  regimen,  because  they  are  not  only  a  re- 
sult of  sensibilities  which  God  has  implanted  in  the  soul,  but 
also  a  means  of  the  happiness  and  virtue  which  he  has  made 
the  end  of  our  being.  Desiring  this  end,  he  has  required  these 
means.     The  theory  that  government  derives  its  claims  from 


18  THE   INDEBTEDNESS    OF 

the  social  compact, is, in  the  main, a  fictitious  mode  of  express- 
ing the  idea  tliat  government  is  congenial  with  our  sensibili- 
ties and  interests,  and  therefore  may  be  presumed  to  secure 
a  promise  of  obedience  from  us,  and  hence  must  be  pleasing 
to  God,  who  chooses  that  we  observe  the  covenants  which 
himself  has  predisposed  us  to  make.  The  theory  tliat  gov- 
ernment demands  our  homage  on  account  of  its  venerable 
and  ancestral  associations,  resolves  itself  into  the  truth,  that 
a  reverence  for  old  systems  was  implanted  within  us  by  the 
Ancient  of  Days,  and  he  desires  that  this  graceful  sentiment 
be  cherished  in  every  form  and  degree  which  can  harmonize 
with  the  paramount  law  of  virtuous  progress.  In  fine,  the 
element  of  truth  existing  in  all  theories  of  civil  government 
is  enveloped  in  the  Christian  doctrine,  that  such  government 
has  a  divine  authority,  and  this  doctrine  is  essential  to  the 
highest  influence  of  those  theories.  There  are  masses  of 
men  who  care  little  for  abstractions.  It  has  been  said  of 
them,  they  "  cannot  see,  but  they  can  feel ;  "  ^  at  least,  they 
do  not  see  so  far  as  to  ultimate  utilities,  nor  so  far  around  as 
to  general  results.  But  they  love  or  fear  a  personal  God,  who 
superadds  his  own  sanction  to  the  threatenings  of  human 
law,  who  gives  a  new  sacredness  to  life  as  connected  with  an 
immortal  existence,  and  to  property  as  a  means  of  spiritual 
culture  ;  a  new  meaning  to  an  oath,  a  religious  value  to  a 
ballot,  a  deep  solemnity  to  an  office  ;  and  who  invests  the 
very  forms  of  justice  with  a  distinct  majesty.'^  Not  in  an  ab- 
stract way,  but  by  living  men,  his  ministers,  has  the  author- 
ity of  the  Great  Lawgiver  been  associated  with  human  juris- 
prudence. Hence  have  these  ministers  been  summoned, 
either  by  the  wisdom  or  conscience  or  policy  of  rulers,  to 
stand  forth  as  the  representatives  of  the  divine  will  in  behalf 

1  Harrington's  Political  Aphorisms. 

2  "  Many  barbarian  tribes,  as  the  Goths,  believe  their  kings  to  have  descended 
from  their  divinities  and  thus  to  be  worthy  of  especial  reverence  ;  as  Homer's 
heroes  were  the  reputed  issue  of  gods  or  demigods,  and  thereby  became  the  objects 
of  religious  homage."     See  Guizot's  Hist.  European  Civilization.  \t  22.3. 


THE   STATE   TO    THE    CLERGY.  19 

of  Immaii  legislation.  They  have  administered  the  holy  sac- 
rament to  the  king  as  he  has  assumed  the  diadem.  They 
have  chanted  the  Te  Deum  before  the  army  as  it  has  marched 
forth  to  the  battle-field.  In  the  dignified  simplicity  of  the 
gospel  they  have  invoked  the  aid  of  the  Most  High  on  our 
legislative  councils.  They  have,  in  various  forms,  clothed 
the  polity  of  man  with  that  honor  which  cometh  from  noth- 
ing but  an  association  with  the  King  of  kings. ^ 

1  In  his  speech  (pp.  47,  48)  on  the  Girard  Will  Case,  Mr.  Webster  says  :  "At 
the  meeting  of  the  tirst  Congress  there  was  a  doubt  in  the  minds  of  many  about 
the  propriety  of  opening  the  session  with  prayer ;  and  the  reason  assigned  was, 
as  here,  the  great  diversity  of  opinion  and  religious  belief:  —  until  at  last  Mr. 
Samuel  Adams,  with  his  gray  hairs  hanging  about  his  shoulders,  and  with  an 
impressive  venerableness  now  seldom  to  be  met  with  (I  suppose,  owing  to  the 
difference  of  habits),  rose  in  that  assembly,  and  with  the  air  of  a  perfect  Puritan, 
said,  it  did  not  become  men  professing  to  be  Christian  men,  who  had  come  to- 
gether for  solemn  deliberation  in  tlie  hour  of  their  extremity,  to  say  that  there  was 
so  wide  a  difference  in  their  religious  belief  that  they  could  not,  as  one  man,  bow 
the  knee  in  ])rayer  to  the  Almighty,  whose  advice  and  assistance  they  hoped  to 
obtain.  And  independent  as  he  was,  and  an  enemy  to  all  prelacy  as  he  was 
known  to  be,  he  moved  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dushe,  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  should 
address  the  Tin-one  of  Grace  in  prayer.  And  John  Adams,  in  his  letter  to  his 
■wife,  says  that  he  never  saw  a  more  moving  spectacle.  Mr.  Duslie  read  the  Epis- 
copal service  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  then,  as  if  moved  by  the  occasion,  he 
broke  out  into  extemporaneous  prayer.  And  those  men  who  were  then  about  to 
resort  to  force  to  obtain  their  riglits,  were  moved  to  tears  ;  and  floods  of  tears,  he 
says,  ran  down  the  cheeks  of  the  pacific  Quakers  who  formed  part  of  that  most 
interesting  assembly." —  In  the  Convention  of  1 787,  which  framed  the  Constitution 
of  the  United  States,  Dr.  Franklin  made,  and  Roger  Sherman  seconded,  the  mo- 
tion, that  "  henceforth  prayers,  imploring  the  assistance  of  heaven  and  its  blessing 
on  our  deliberations,  be  held  in  this  Assembly  every  morning."  This  motion,  how- 
ever, was  not  made  until  the  28th  of  June,  when  the  Convention  had  been  more 
than  four  weeks  in  session,  and  then  "  Mr.  Hamilton  and  several  others  expressed 
apprehensions,  that  however  proper  such  a  resolution  might  have  been  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Convention,  it  might,  at  this  late  day,  bring  on  it  some  disagreea- 
ble animadversions,  etc.  Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Sherman  answered  that  the  past 
omission  of  a  duty  could  not  justify  a  further  omission,  etc.  Mr.  Williamson 
observed  that  the  true  cause  of  the  omission  could  not  be  mistaken.  The  Con- 
vention had  no  funds.  Mr.  Randolph  proposed,  in  order  to  give  a  favorable  as- 
pect to  the  measure,  that  a  sermon  be  preached,  at  the  request  of  the  Convention, 
on  the  4th  of  July,  and  thenceforward  prayers.  Dr.  Franklin  seconded  this 
motion."  It  was  not  carried,  however,  and  the  original  motion  of  Dr.  Franklin 
was  lost  by  a  very  decisive  vote.  It  is  pleasing  to  reflect  that  this  omission  is  an 
anomaly  in  our  highest  legislative  proceedings.  See  Sparks's  Life  of  Franklin, 
Vols.  I.,  pp.  514,  515,  and  V.,  pp.  153 — 155  ;  and  Mr.  Madison's  Journal,  in  loco. 


20  THE   INDEBTEDNESS    OF 

There  are  some  laws,  perhaps,  which,  unless  ennobled  bjr 
this  alliance  with  the  religion  of  the  pulpit,  would  be  re- 
garded as  too  severe  to  be  sustained.  Had  not  the  New  Tes- 
tament unfolded  the  nature  of  justice  as  including  in  itself 
the  tenderest  care  for  the  general  peace,  there  might  be  a 
reason  for  modifying  the  application  of  the  old  command, 
"  Whoso  sheddeth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be 
shed."  The  executioner  would  be  deterred  from  pressing 
the  fatal  spring,  did  not  the  gospel,  which  wins  our  love  by 
its  mildness,  illustrate  the  benevolence  of  the  penal  code, 
framed  not  for  paining  the  guilty  so  much  as  for  relieving 
the  innocent ;  not  for  grieving  a  small  circle  of  friends,  but 
for  securing  the  comfort  and  the  virtue  of  an  entire  nation. 
Had  not  the  people  of  our  Commonwealth  been  saved  from 
a  one-sided  philanthropy  by  the  comprehensive  spirit  of  the 
New  Testament,  which  utters  a  more  subduing  threat  as  well 
as  a  more  cheering  promise  than  the  Old ;  had  they  not  been 
taught  by  Him  who  came  to  be  our  pattern  of  gentleness, 
that  civilization  is  something  higher  than  a  poetic  sentimen- 
talism ;  that  true  compassion  reaches  beyond  the  man  who 
has  abused  his  race,  and  guards  also  the  race  from  being  still 
further  abused ;  that  religion  is  the  love  of  right,  and  there- 
fore involves  the  hatred  of  wrong  ;  aims  to  bless  men,  and 
therefore  frowns  on  all  that  injures  them ;  pities  the  sordid 
temper  of  the  criminal,  and  therefore  watches  with  the  kind- 
lier sympathy  over  the  children  and  mothers,  the  timorous 
and  the  frail,  who  tremble  by  day  and  by  night  in  fear  of  that 
criminal ;  had  not  our  fathers  been  inspired  with  this  conser- 
vative spirit  of  Christianity,  still  permeating  otir  civil  insti- 
tutions, —  we  had  not  seen,  and  the  world  had  not  admired, 
tlie  majestic  march  of  justice  through  our  Commonwealth 
during  the  past  year  ;  the  manliness  and  dignity  of  our 
judges  ;  the  firm,  cautious,  and  lofty  spirit  of  our  councillors, 
sustaining  the  law  which  is  made  so  fearful  for  the  sake  of 
preventing  a  sin  yet  more  sinful ;  listening  with  parental 
tenderness  to  every  plea  of  the  sufferer,  but  hearkening  also 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  21 

to  the  voice  of  God,  as  he  says,  through  the  instinctive  senti- 
ments of  our  race,  that  the  penalty  which  men  are  so  framed 
as  to  dread  most  of  all  and  last  of  all,  is  the  fit  dissuasive 
from  that  last  and  most  appalling  of  crimes,  which  hardens 
the  heart  against  all  gentler  motives.^ 

Clergymen  have  been  accused,  some  of  them  justly,  but 
others  unjustly,  of  pressing  the  claims  of  government  too  far, 
and  of  degrading  themselves  into  the  mere  parasites  of  the 
men  who  happen  to  be  in  power.^  The  more  trustworthy 
divines,  however,  have  not  been  content  with  advocating  the 
virtue  of  allegiance;  they  have  enjoined  a  second  duty, — 
that  of  ameliorating  the  latvs  and  government  of  the  land.  They 
have  recommended  this  duty  in  various  ways  and  widely 
different  degrees. 

Breathing  the  spirit  of  his  office,  a  clergyman  is  reluctant 
to  think  ill  of  civil  enactments,  for  they  need  to  be  revered. 
Still  he  has  often  aided  in  correcting,  when  he  has  not  seen, 
their  faults.  His  teachings  have  been  more  useful  than  his  ob- 
servation has  been  exact.  When  advocating  an  injurious  law, 
he  has  enforced  principles  which  resulted  in  amending  it. 

And  when  his  charity  which  thinketh  no  evil  has  been 
compelled  to  recognize  the  mal-administration  of  lawgivers, 
he  has  been  slow  to  condemn  them  in  his  public  speech  ;  for 
it  is  written,  "  Thou  shalt  not  speak  evil  of  the  ruler  of  thy 

^  Allusion  is  here  made  to  the  execution  of  Professor  John  W.  Webster,  Au- 
gust 30,  1850,  for  the  murder  of  Dr.  George  Parkman ;  and  to  the  steadfastness 
with  which  all  efforts  for  the  pardon  of  Prof.  Webster  were  resisted  by  tlie  gov- 
ernment. 

-  Mr.  Hume  says,  Essay  IX.,  in  language  altogether  too  unguarded  :  "All 
princes  tliat  have  aimed  at  despotic  power,  have  known  of  what  importance  it 
was  to  gain  the  established  clergy  ;  as  the  clergy,  on  their  part,  have  shown  a 
great  facility  in  entering  into  the  views  of  such  princes.  Gustavus  Vasa  was, 
perhaps,  the  only  ambitious  monarch  that  ever  dejjressed  the  church  at  tiie  same 
time  that  he  discouraged  lil)Crty.  But  the  exorbitant  power  of  the  bishops  in 
Sweden,  who  at  that  time  overtopped  the  crown  itself,  together  with  their  attach- 
ment to  a  foreign  family,  was  the  reason  of  his  embracing  such  an  unusual  sys- 
tem of  politics." 


22  THE   INDEBTEDNESS   OF 

people."^  Still,  without  reproaching  he  has  often  benefited 
them,  for  he  has  unfolded  a  system  of  divine  legislation 
which,  in  its  gradual  working,  assimilates  the  government  of 
earth  to  that  of  heaven.  Immoral  codes  have  sometimes 
been  submitted  to  him  for  revision,  as  when  the  laws  of  the 
Visigoths  were  humanized  by  the  Councils  of  Toledo. 

But  when  the  mal -feasance  of  rulers  passes  a  certain  line, 
he  cannot  but  speak  out.  He  dreads  the  influence  of  corrupt 
magistrates  as  preachers  of  heresy,  as  men  who  will  nullify 
the  laws  which  he  is  commissioned  to  proclaim.  Therefore, 
if  he  live  under  a  government  susceptible  of  peaceful 
changes,  he  is  required  to  plead  for  a  reform  of  statutes  that 
miseducate  the  soul,  benumb  the  conscience,  deaden  the  sen- 
timent of  pity  or  honor  or  generosity,  and  weaken  the  very 
basis  of  government  by  vitiating  the  moral  principles  on 
which  every  good  government  rests.  It  is  sometimes  said, 
that  "  it  is  immaterial  what  civil  polity  we  have,  provided 
that  the  people  are  honest  and  intelligent;"  but  unless  we 
have  the  right  polity,  there  is  danger  that  the  people  will 
never  be  honest  and  intelligent. 

Still,  the  true  pastor  is  far  from  sanctioning  the  rule  that 
every  injurious  statute  be  of  course  disobeyed  ;  for  it  may  be 
so  compacted  with  beneficent  laws  that  they  will  stand  or  fall 
with  it,  and  the  one  unsightly  stone  of  an  arch  must  not  be 
pried  out  from  the  other  stones  which  depend  upon  it  for 
tlieir  form  and  pressure.  Neither  does  he  sustain  the  rule 
that  every  government,  corrupt  on  the  whole,  be  disobeyed  ; 

^  Much  is  said,  and  wisely,  at  the  present  day,  against  disobedience  to  rulers. 
But  tlie  spirit  of  unrighteous  disobedience  to  them  is  fostered  by  the  practice  of 
unwarranted  slander  against  them.  A  faithful  preacher  dissuades  men  from 
"  speaking  evil  of  dignities,"  as  well  as  from  refusing  subjection  to  them  ;  and 
when  tlie  disposition  is  so  rife,  as  in  our  land,  to  calumniate  the  civil  authorities, 
we  must  expect  the  consequent  disposition  to  resist  them.  The  fact  that  our 
rulers  may  not  belong  to  our  own  party,  is  no  excuse  for  the  desire  or  the  prac- 
tice of  saying  more  against  them  than  the  welfare  of  tiie  State  obviously  and 
urgently  demands.  The  careless  or  unnecessary  disparagement  of  them  is  one 
of  the  worst  species  of  detraction,  and  has  in  all  ages  been  condemned  by  the 
pulpit. 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  23 

for  often  he  has  reason  to  believe  that  it  would  be  made  only 
the  more  corrupt  by  being  opposed,  and  even  if  overthrown, 
would  give  place  to  a  new  structure  built  of  the  same  mate- 
rials in  a  worse  form.  Bad  laws  and  bad  rulers  are  fre- 
quently less  bad  than  any  which  would  be  at  once  substituted 
for  them  ;  and  while  they  cannot  claim  obedience  for  their 
own  merits,  we  may  be  required  to  yield  obedience  for  our 
own  usefulness.  We  only  confuse  ourselves  when  we  imag- 
ine that  obedience  to  a  wrong  law  must  necessarily  be,  or 
always  is  in  itself  sinful.  Although  a  government  has  no  right 
to  command  when  we  have  no  right  to  obey,  yet  we  are  often 
under  obligation  to  obey  mandates  which  the  government 
ought  not  to  have  imposed.  For  resistance  to  these  mandates 
may  not  always  be  necessary  in  order  to  avoid  sin,  and  it  may 
moreover  be  useless,  and  if  useless  it  is  hurtful,  and  if  hurtful 
it  is  offensive  to  our  best  Friend,  for  he  forbids  us  to  waste  our 
probation  in  efforts  which  threaten  evil  when  they  do  not 
promise  good,  and  he  often  gives  a  divine  right  to  obedience 
when  he  gives  none  to  the  government  obeyed.  It  is  true, 
however,  singular  as  it  may  seem,  that  the  interests  of  men 
coincide  so  far  with  their  duty  as  to  make  the  larger  part  of 
human  statutes  coincident  with  the  law  of  God,  and  to  make 
them,  therefore,  his  laws.  In  agreement  with  these  princi- 
ples, the  preacher  has  insisted  on  the  general  rule,  that  men 
obey  the  law  of  the  land ;  not  merely  that  they  obey,  if  tliey 
deem  the  law  expedient,  but  that  they  obey ;  not  merely  if 
they  approve  it,  but  that  they  approve  of  obedience  to  it ;  not 
that  they  make  the  wisdom  of  a  particular  statute  the  condi- 
tion of  their  compliance  with  it,  but  that  they  believe  in  the 
wisdom  of  their  compliance  with  it  so  long  as  it  is  a  statute. 
The  general  rule  of  the  "  wise  man  "  is  to  reverence  law  be- 
cause it  is  good,  or  else  to  obey  it  because  it  is  law  ;  and  in 
such  a  land  as  our  own,  where  the  legislation  is  founded  on 
Ciiristian  principles,  we  must  presume  a  statute  to  be  right, 
unless  we  have  palpable  evidence  that  it  is  wrong.  And 
even  when  there  is  such  evidence,  the  act  which  the  law  re- 


24  THE   INDEBTEDNESS    OF 

quires  of  us  may  not  be  wrong  like  the  law  which  requires  it. 
This  act  may  be  unfortunately  so  complicated  with  the  affairs 
of  a  useful  government,  that,  although  it  may  be  injurious  to 
a  few  individuals,  yet  the  omission  of  it  may  compromit  the 
safety  of  the  government,  and  may  thus  be  still  more  injuri- 
ous to  a  larger  number  of  individuals.  This  is  an  outward 
act,  and  although  the  same  moral  choice  must  be  either  good 
or  bad,  ever  the  same,  yet  many  an  external  deed  may  vary 
in  its  character,  become  right  here  and  now,  although  it  was 
wrong  there  and  then.  If  not  commanded,  it  would  be  unfit 
and  hurtful,  but  when  it  is  commanded,  it  may  be  less  unfit 
and  less  hurtful  than  would  be  the  disobedience  to  the  stat- 
ute. It  is  a  principle  of  mere  fanaticism,  that  if  an  external 
deed  is  proper  in  one  relation,  therefore  it  may  be  performed 
in  all  relations  ;  and  if  improper  in  some  circumstances, 
therefore  it  must  be  performed  in  no  circumstances,  even 
"  though  the  heavens  fall."^ 

But  the  human  mind  is  like  a  pendulum  swinging  from 
one  extreme  to  the  other,  and  reaching  that  other  because  it 
had  been  first  at  the  one.  It  is  an  extreme  view,  and  there- 
fore a  dangerous  view  (because  an  ultraism  on  one  side  re- 
pels into  an  ultraism  on  the  other,  and  it  is  hostile  to  the 
genius  of  the  gospel,  and  of  its  true  ministers,  to  advocate 
any,  and  of  course  this,  extravagance),  that. the  general  rule 
of  conformity  to  human  law  will  never  allow  an  excep- 
tion .^     There  is  a  certain  line  beyond  which  the  minister 

'  The  well-known  proverbs  are:  "Fiat  justitia;  ruat  coelum,"  and  "Fiat 
justitia  et  pereat  mundus." 

2  It  is  one  characteristic  of  a  "  wise  man,"  that  he  knows  when  and  where  to 
make  exceptions  to  a  general  rule.  By  forcing  the  rule  of  obedience  so  far  as  to 
shut  out  the  rightfulness  of  any  exception  whatever,  we  prejudice  men  against  the 
rule  ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  by  making  exceptions  too  easy  and  too  numerous, 
and  by  undervaluing  the  strong  antecedent  presumptions  in  favor  of  the  existing 
law,  we  drive  men  into  the  opposite  extreme  of  denying  the  rightfulness  of  any 
exception  whatever.  "  If  there  be  a  danger  on  the  one  hand,"  says  Dr.  Camp- 
bell, "of  tying  the  knot  of  allegiance  which  binds  the  subject  to  tlie  sovereign 
too  hard,  there  is'no  less  danger  on  the  other  of  making  it  too  loose."  Many  cler- 
gymen of  England,  receiving  too  much  aid  from  Usher,  Sanderson,  Ken,  South, 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  25 

who  represents  the  gospel  cannot,  and  for  the  good  of  the 
State  should  not  pass,  in  defending  the  active  compliance  with 
law.  He  has  long  insisted  on  the  distinction  between  active 
and  passive  obedience,  and  between  disobedience  to  the  pre- 
ceptive part  of  law  and  resistance  to  the  retributive  part  of 
it.'  While  he  has  dissuaded  men  from  rebelling  against  an 
unworthy  statute,  he  has,  in  some  rare  instances,  counselled 
their  quietly  submitting  to  its  sanctions  as  a  less  serious  evil 
than  their  performing  its  requisitions.  The  wise  preacher 
has  given  this  counsel  when,  and  only  when,  the  statute  has 
required  citizens  to  violate  the  clear  decisions  of  a  well- 
trained  conscience  and  the  plain  will  of  God :  the  clear  de- 
cisions of  conscience,  for  this  faculty  leads  us  to  infer  that  if 
there  be  any  doubt,  the  government  is  ordained  of  Heaven  to 
have  the  benefit  of  that  doubt ;  the  decisions  of  a  ivell-trained 
conscience,  for  this  is  a  faculty  which  decides  aright,  only 
when  treated  aright,  when  carefully  enlightened,  when  free 
from  the  sinister  influence  of  passion,  when  combined  with  an 
earnest  desire  and  all  possible  efforts  to  learn  the  good  way  ; 
the  plain  will  of  God,  for  he  wills  us  to  act  on  the  presump- 
tion that  human  laws  are  just,  and  that  they  are  his  ordman- 
ces,  unless  it  be  obvious  that  they  violate  other  ordinances 

and  Berkeley,  have  contended  that  the  (jeneral  mle  of  obedience  is  also  a  univeral 
one.  Some  of  these  divines  have,  as  Mr.  Macaulay  says,  "  delighted  to  exhibit 
the  doctrines  of  non-resistance  in  a  form  so  exaggerated  as  to  shock  common 
sense  and  humanity."  But  nearly  all  the  British  divines  on  whose  judgment  our 
countrymen  are  most  apt  to  rely,  have  sustained  the  old  doctrine  of  the  Church 
Fathers,  that  the  general  rule  of  obedience  is  to  be  urged  strenuously,  but  still 
not  so  blindly  as  to  exclude  all  exceptions.  This  has  been  the  doctrine  of  Jewell, 
Hooker,  Bilson,  Bedell,  Burnet,  Jeremy  Taylor,  Chillingworth,  Hoadley,  King, 
Conybeare,  Paley ;  —  of  nearly  all  the  dissenting,  and  also  the  Scottish  theo- 
logians. It  has  also  been  the  doctrine  of  standard  jurists.  "  Upon  these  two 
foundations,  the  law  of  nature  and  the  law  of  revelation,  depend  all  human  laws  ; 
for  being  coeval  with  mankind,  and  dictated  by  God  himself,  they  are  of  course 
superior  in  obligation  to  any  other,  and  are  binding  all  over  the  globe,  in  all 
countries  and  all  times  ;  no  human  laws,  therefore,  are  of  any  validity  if  contrary 
to  these  ;  and  such  of  them  as  are  valid  derive  all  their  force  and  all  their  author- 
ity, mediately  or  immediately,  from  this  original." — Ixiw  Grammar,  Chap.  II.  §  3. 
'  Aliud  est  non  parere  quam  resistere.  —  Bezn. 


26  THE   INDEBTEDNESS    OF 

which  are  more  obviously  and  imperatively  his.  Men  who 
seek  to  be  instructed  by  him  will  be  guided  into  a  knowledge 
of  his  statutes,  and  will  cleave  to  them,  whether  they  do  or 
do  not  sanction  the  statutes  of  men.  Such  is  the  consistent 
pastor's  faith  in  the  divine  providence,  that  he  believes  it 
salutary,  as  well  as  proper,  to  illustrate  the  wrongfulness  of 
an  evidently  immoral  and  demoralizing  law  by  a  specimen  of 
its  grievous  results,  and  he  doubts  not  that  a  prudent  Legis- 
lature will  reform  such  an  enactment  rather  than  multiply 
fines  and  pains  upon  the  very  men  whose  moral  principles 
are  at  once  the  richest  treasure  and  the  best  preservative  of 
the  State,  and  who  honor  the  law  in  general  by  patiently  en- 
during the  penalties  which  ought  never  to  have  been  threat- 
ened. The  divine  has  aimed  to  be,  and  has  been,  a  patriot 
in  allowing  no  expectation  that  he  would  advocate  a  policy 
which  must  displease  the  Author  of  all  national  blessings, 
and  must  undermine  the  prosperity  by  impairing  the  virtue 
of  the  people.  His  hope  has  been  to  raise  the  tone  of  morals 
both  in  the  high  and  low  places  of  the  land,  by  teaching  that 
we  are  subjects  of  Jehovah  before,  and  while,  and  after  we 
are  under  the  dominion  of  men,  and  therefore  the  plain  laws 
of  heaven  bind  us  more  thoroughly  and  deeply  than  any  en- 
actments which  may  contravene  them ;  for  they  bind  us  in 
the  motive  as  well  as  in  the  deed,  by  a  regard  for  the  soul  as 
well  as  the  body,  for  time  and  forever.  When  the  prophets 
and  apostles  chose,  at  the  expense  of  life  and  liberty,  to  obey 
God  rather  than  man  ;  when  the  martyrs  of  the  ancient 
church  welcomed  their  pains  as  a  reward  for  not  abandoning 
their  rights  of  worship  ;  when  the  Reformers  of  Germany,  the 
Huguenot  clergy  of  France,  the  Covenanting  divines  of  Scot- 
land, the  Protestant  bishops  and  Puritan  ministers  of  England, 
took  joyfully  the  spoiling  of  their  goods  as  a  recompense  for 
not  transgressing  the  decisive  mandates  of  Heaven,  and  not 
yielding  a  principle  which  they  knew,  and  we  all  know,  that 
God  required  them  to  maintain,  —  they  were  not  rebels  nor 
revolutionists ;  they  did  not  love  their  country  less  as  it  was, 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  27 

but  more  as  through  their  example  it  was  to  be  ;  they  offered 
their  treasure  and  their  blood  as  a  sacrifice,  not  for  their  own 
land  alone,  but  also  for  the  world,  in  their  time  and  in  all 
time.  And  we,  above  all  men,  see  and  feel  the  results  of  their 
patriotism ;  and  if  we,  who  are  free-born  through  their  influ- 
ence, are  ready  to  charge  the  noble  army  of  martyrs,  whose 
very  names  are  hallowed  by  our  prayers,  with  sedition  and 
treason  and  insurrection,  then  we  are  ready  to  exhume  their 
bones  and  scatter  their  ashes  to  the  winds. 

If  a  deputy  should  enjoin  what  was  not  permitted  by  the 
magistrate  who  deputed  him,  or  if  a  magistrate  should  order 
what  was  not  allowed  by  the  province  which  appointed  him, 
or  if  that  province  should  command  what  the  National  Gov- 
ernment had  forbidden,  or  if  the  National  Government  should 
enact  what  the  Constitution  had  prohibited,  or  if  the  Consti- 
tution should  require  what  is  expressly  interdicted  by  Jeho- 
vah, in  every  such  case  of  conflicting  laws,  the  true  interests 
of  a  State  forbid  that  the  higher  injunctions  be  contravened 
for  the  sake  of  compliance  with  the  lower'^  The  general 
truth  is  that  the  higher  sustain  the  lower,  and  the  command 
of  obedience  to  the  lower  presupposes  that  they  will  demand 
no  transgression  of  the  higher ;  and  when  this  supposition 
fails,  the  maxim  of  Ben  Sirach  is  to  be  applied,  "  Let  not 
the  reverence  for  any  man  cause  thee  to  sin."  The  Christian 
divine  urges  upon  citizens  the  apostolic  rule,  "  Submit  your- 
selves to  every  ordinance  of  man  for  the  Lord's  sake."  So  he 
urges  upon  children  the  rule,  "  Obey  your  parents  in  all 
things."  So  he  urges  upon  servants  the  rule,  "  Obey  in  all 
things  your  masters."  ^    In  the  same  revealed  sentence  which 

1  "  A  constable  may  a  thousand  times  more  excusably  pretend  authority  against 
the  king,  or  independent  of  him,  than  a  king  can  claim  authoritj'  against  God,  or 
independent  of  him."  —  Richard  Baxter's  Holy  Commomvealth.  "  Obedience  to- 
man's  laws  is  not  necessary,  when  the  matter  is  forbidden  us  by  God's  laws,  or 
when  they  are  laws  without  power,  that  is,  such  as  men  have  no  authority  to 
make." —  Baxter's  End  of  Contronrsy ,  p.  286. 

*  "  Yet  I  believe  no  Christian  will  urge,  that  there  would  ho  an  obligation  to 
obedience  from  this  precept,  should  a  parent  coinnKuul  !iis  child,  or  a  master 


28  1EE  INDEBTEDNESS   Cl. 

contains  the  injunction  to  obey  magistrates,  is  another  in- 
junction to  "  speak  evil  of  no  man."  But  the  wise  preacher 
saves  his  hearers  from  fanaticism  by  proving,  that  many 
inspired  mandates  are  expressed  in  general  terms,  so  as  to 
devolve  on  man  the  duty  of  affixing  the  requisite  limitations. 
They  often  exact  a  service  in  unqualified  language,  so  that 
they  may  exercise  and  improve  the  moral  judgment  of  man  in 
defining  the  extent  of  the  service.  He  who  aims  to  guide 
himself  by  the  general  spirit  of  Christianity,  will  receive 
wisdom  enough  to  modify  the  commands  which  were  not 
designed  for  being  pressed  to  the  letter.  A  consistent  theolo- 
gian, believing  in  the  divine  right  of  rulers,  cannot  believe 
in  their  "right  divine  of  doing  wrong."  They  forfeit  their 
heavenly  claim  so  far  forth  as  they  plainly  transgress  the  will 
of  Heaven.  "  The  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God,"  says 
the  first  preacher  to  the  Gentiles,  "/or  rulers  are  not  a  terror 
to  good  works,  but  to  the  evil."  Not  in  all  particulars,  then, 
but  in  those  particulars  in  which  these  powers  become  a  ter- 
ror, not  to  evil  works,  but  to  good,  the  reason  for  the  divinity 
of  their  government  fails.  Tbey  have  a  divine  right  when 
they  do  no  wrong,  but  have  no  right  at  all  to  require  a  sinful 
compliance.  The  heavenly  signet  of  their  office  bears  the  in- 
scription, "/or  [the  ruler]  is  a  minister  of  God  to  thee  for 
good," /or  he  is  "  a  revenger  to  execute  wrath  upon  him  that 


command  his  servant  fo  steal."  "  Our  Lord  has  given  us  this  express  prohibition, 
Resist  not  eml,  and  that  without  any  restriction  whatever.  Yet  if  this  were  to  be 
understood  by  Christians  as  admitting  no  exception,  it  would,  among  them, 
abolish  magistracy 'itself.  For  what  is  magistracy  but,  if  I  may  be  allowed  the 
expression,  a  bulwark  erected  for  the  defence  of  the  society,  and  consequently  for 
the  purpose  of  resisting  evil  ?  "  These  remarks  are  from  a  sermon  of  Dr.  George 
Campbell,  "preached  at  Aberdeen,  Dec.  12,  1776,  being  the  Fast  Day  appointed 
by  the  King  on  account  of  the  Rebellion  in  America."  This  celebrated  critic 
stigmatizes  the  "  ringleaders  of  the  American  Revolt,  the  members  of  their  Con- 
gress," as  inconsiderate  and  dishonest  men,  deserving  both  pity  and  blame ;  but 
still  contends  "  that  no  man  is  bound  to  yield  an  active  obedience  to  a  human  law, 
whicli,  either  from  the  light  of  nature  or  from  revelation,  he  is  persuaded  to  be 
contrary  to  the  divine  law."  Sec  CampbeU's  Dissertation,  Sermons  and  Tracts, 
Vol.  II.,  pp.  130—154. 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  29 

doeth  evil :  wherefore  ye  must  needs  be  subject,  not  only  for 
wrath,  but  also  for  conscience'  sake."  But  this  ruler  loses 
his  divine  signet  and  the  divinity  of  his  office,  not  in  all  re- 
spects, but  to  the  extent  in  which  he  becomes  the  minister  of 
evil  instead  of  good  ;  and  in  which  men  cannot  obey,  either 
for  conscience'  sake,  because  an  enlightened  conscience  re- 
quires them  to  obey  an  opposite  command  of  Heaven  ;  or  for 
wrath's  sake,  because  they  will  endure  a  sorer  punishment 
for  disobeying  God  in  compliance  with  a  human  law,  than  for 
obeying  him  in  opposition  to  it. 

But  there  is  another  line,  still  more  remote  and  still  more 
fearful,  where  the  wise  minister  ceases  to  recommend  even 
passive  obedience,  and  advocates  a  forcible  opposition  to  the 
government  which  has  abused  its  trust.  In  these  extreme 
cases,  when  forcible  resistance  is  a  smaller  evil  than  the  tyr- 
anny otherwise  endured ;  when  it  is  the  necessary  and  the 
only  means  of  avoiding  an  oppression  too  grievous  to  be 
borne  ;  when  it,  and  it  alone,  promises  to  be  successful  in  se- 
curing the  rights  of  the  citizen,  whenever  submission  to  ty- 
rants is  evidently  treason  against  God,  —  then  the  represen- 
tative of  the  gospel  has  served  the  State  by  encouraging  its 
patriots  in  a  revolution.  If  the  stone  should  cry  out  of  the 
wall,  and  the  beam  out  of  the  timber  should  answer  it,  they 
would  tell  of  many  a  Sabbath  appeal  with  which  this  sanctuary  ^ 
once  resounded  in  favor  of  our  fathers  struggling  to  escape 
from  bondage.  On  the  sixth  of  December,  seventeen  hun- 
dred and  seventy-four,  our  Provincial  Congress  addressed  a 
circular  letter  to  every  clergyman  in  the  colony,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  securing  the  influence  of  his  office  against  the  en- 
croachments  of  the  royal  power. ^     Our  Revolutionary  gQn- 

'  Old  South  Mccting-housc. 

"^  The  following  is  the  letter,  as  found  in  Dr.  Gordon's  History  of  the  American 
Revolution,  Vol.  I.  pp.  417,  418  :  "  Rev.  Sir,  —  We  cannot  hut  acknowledge  the 
goodness  of  Heaven,  in  constantly  supplying  us  with  preachers  of  the  gospel,  whose 
concern  has  been  the  temporal  and  spiritual  happiness  of  this  people.  In  a  day 
like  this,  when  all  the  friends  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  are  exerting  themselves  to 


30  THE   INDEBTEDNESS    OF 

erals  often  entreated  his  aid.  He  welcomed  the  rising  army, 
blessed  them  as  they  girded  on  their  weapons  of  defence,  em- 
boldened them  with  the  thought,  which  always  stirs  the  soul 
like  a  trumpet,  that  they  were  in  a  religious  war,  and  fought, 
like  the  Jews  of  old,  for  their  altars,  and  the  God  of  the  armies 
of  Israel  would  go  before  them  in  a  pillar  of  cloud  by  day 
and  of  fire  by  night ;  and  it  is  rational  to  suppose  that  if  the 
frequent  prayer  of  tlie  sanctuary  had  not  been  sent  up  to 
heaven  in  behalf  of  our  forlorn  troops,  they  had  fainted  under 
the  prolonged  severity  of  their  contest. 

But  the  solemn  question  arises,  Who  shall  judge  whether  a 
law  be  so  extremely  injurious  as  to  be  fitly  unobeyed  in  its 
precept,  or  even  resisted  in  its  sanctions  ?  Who  shall  deter- 
mine when  a  statute  has  passed  that  line  of  abuse  beyond 
which  it  cannot  be  complied  with,  safely  and  rightly  ?  This 
inquiry  has  various  meanings.  Is  it  asked  whether  every 
citizen  may  examine  the  merits  of  a  law  ?  A  State  —  above 
all,  a  Republic  —  is  a  school  for  this  invigorating  study.  Is 
it  inquired  whether  every  citizen  may  judge  of  a  law,  as  if 
he  were  no  less  competent  to  do  so  than  the  civil  autliorities  ? 
He  should  feel  an  habitual  deference  toward  them ;  the  pulpit 
admonishes  him  to  be  modest  and  reverent ;  but  in  deciding 
to  obey  them  against  his  previous  judgment,  he  does  and 
must  decide  for  himself.  Is  it  asked  whether  every  citizen, 
may  pronounce  sentence  against  a  law,  without  consulting 
the  wise  and  good  of  the  past  or  present  times  ?     He  should 


deliver  this  country  from  its  present  calamities,  we  cannot  but  place  great  hopes 
in  an  order  of  men  wiio  have  ever  distinguished  themselves  in  theu'  country's 
cause  ;  and  do  therefore  recommend  to  the  ministers  of  the  gospel,  in  the  several 
towns  and  other  places  in  this  colony,  that  they  assist  us  in  avoiding  that  dread- 
ful slavery  with  which  we  are  now  threatened."  It  was  natural  that  the  people  who 
had  long  revered  John  Cotton  and  Thomas  Hooker,  as  fathers  to  the  State  as  well 
as  the  Church,  should  in  the  times  of  the  Revolution  look  up  to  the  clergy  as  not 
onlv  spiritual  but  also  political  advisers.  The  influence  of  such  divines  as  May- 
hew,  Cooper,  and  Witherspoon,  of  the  Election  preachers  of  Massachusetts,  is 
noticed  in  Gordon's  History,  Vol.  I.  pp.  418—420  ;  Graharae's  Colonial  History, 
Vol.  II.  pp.  394,  412,  419,  445,  463. 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  81 

humbly  reverence  their  decision,  but  in  yielding  to  it  and 
obeying  the  law  on  account  of  it  and  against  his  previous 
judgment,  he  does  and  must  decide  for  himself.  Is  it  asked, 
whether  a  citizen  may  disobey  any  law  without  solemn  and 
pious  meditation  ?  He  must  take  a  large  and  broad  view  of 
disobedience  in  all  its  extended  results,  many  of  them  so  dis- 
astrous, and  he  is  a  rash  man  if  he  dare  to  disobey  until  he 
has  learned  wisdom  from  communing  with  the  great  Ruler. 
Shall  a  man  judge  hastily  ?  No.  Shall  he  judge  in  a  pas- 
sion ?  No.  Shall  he  follow  a  perverted  conscience  ?  He 
should  not  have  a  perverted  conscience  which  he  can  follow. 
He  should  have  no  conscience  but  a  good  one,  one  that  is  fit 
to  be  followed,  and  one  that  is  worthy  to  punish  him  if  he  do 
not  follow  it.  He  was  made  so  that  he  may  have,  and  he 
ought  to  have,  and  not  only  to  have  but  also  to  obey,  this 
accurate  conscience.  Of  course  he  ought  to  do  what,  at  the 
time  of  his  deed,  after  having  adopted  all  possible  means  of 
learning  his  duty,  he  thinks  to  be  right,  or  else  what  he 
thinks  to  be  wrong ;  and  to  affirm  that  a  man  ought  to  do 
what,  at  the  time  of  doing  it,  he  thinks  to  be  wrong,  is  a  sole- 
cism in  morals.^  Is  it  then  inquired  whether  in  the  last  re- 
sort every  citizen  must  judge  of  his  political  duty  ?  He  must 
judge  ofit,  provided  that  he  is  to  be  judged  for  it  at  the  last 
day.  He  must  decide  for  himself,  unless  some  magistrate  is 
to  stand  as  a  days-man  between  him  and  the  King  of  kings  at 
the  dread  account.  A  man  must  determine  for  himself  his 
religious  faith,  with  a  view  of  its  everlasting  consequences,  and 
he  is  also  summoned  to  determine  his  political  conduct  with  a 
view  of  life  or  death,  honor  or  infamy,  as  its  result.  This  is 
the  condition  of  our  free  agency.    Herein  is  the  dignity  and 


^  The  patriots  of  our  land  have  been  trained  to  a  high  reverence  for  their 
moral  faculty.  John  Adams,  writing  to  his  son  John  Quincy  Adams,  at  St. 
Petersburg,  in  1782,  says  :  "  Your  conscience  is  the  minister  plenipotentiary  of 
Grod  Almighty  in  your  breast.  See  to  it  that  this  minister  never  negotiates  in 
vain.  Attend  to  him  in  opposition  to  all  the  courts  in  the  world." —  Letters  of 
Mrs.  Adams,  p.  427,  4th  edition. 


32  THE    INDEBTEDNESS    OF 

grandeur  of  the  soul.  Here  is  the  solemnity  of  a  life  on  which 
depends  the  life  to  come  ;  and  here  do  we  find  a  new  and  a 
prominent  reason  why  the  God  of  nations  has  appointed  a  class 
of  ethical  advisers  who  may,  with  his  help,  train  men  to  make 
and  to  keep  their  conscience  pure,  to  educate  it,  to  rectify  it, 
to  preserve  it  as  a  safe  guide,  to  obey  it  when  it  is,  as  it  always 
may  and  should  be  thus  safe,  to  cherish  that  spirit  which  has 
the  promise  of  leading  men  into  the  truth,  to  suspect  their  own 
decision  when  opposed  to  that  of  their  lawgivers,  to  judge  of 
"  the  powers  that  be"  with  a  devout  and  humble  temper,  and 
never  to  venture  on  disobedience  to  them  save  in  the  last  and 
most  dismal  emergency ;  to  give  up  for  them  everything  which 
does  not  forfeit  the  favor  of  Him  whose  favor  is  life  to  the 
nation,  and  "  if  it  be  possible,  as  much  as  lieth  in  them,  to 
live  peaceably  with  all  men,"  and  above  all  with  those  men 
who  bear  the  sword  not  in  vain. 

But  is  there  not  peril  in  these  private  decisions?  Peril! 
Where  is  there  not  peril  on  this  earth,  spread  all  over  with 
snares  and  pitfalls,  as  the  signs  and  results  of  transgression  ? 
Peril !  If  we  take  the  wings  of  the  morning,  and  fly  any- 
where within  the  confines  of  probation,  we  shall  find  peril. 
He  who  made  us  meant  to  try  us,  and  danger  is  our  trial. 
There  is  danger  in  enslaving  the  conscience.  There  is  dan- 
ger in  subduing  men  into  peace  by  benumbing  the  vitality  of 
their  individual  judgment.  A  State  will  never  thrive  by 
counselling  its  citizens  to  undervalue  their  moral  nature,  to 
brave  as  womanish  their  fears  of  sinning,  to  become  patriotic 
by  becoming  indifferent  to  their  conscientious  scruples,  ta 
sacrifice  a  general  to  a  mere  incidental  expediency.  A  polit- 
ical party  will  sooner  or  later  lose  its  dominion,  unless  it  as- 
sociate with  itself  the  religious  sentiment  of  the  people.  For, 
while  the  interests  of  men  vary,  and  favor  now  this  party  and 
then  another,  the  religious  sentiment  holds  on  and  holds  out, 
oscillating  sometimes  like  the  needle,  but  sure  to  come  back 
again  at  last,  and  point  to  the  star  which  lingers  over  the 
abode  of  justice  and  of  truth.     In  certain  individuals  this 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  33 

sentiment  is  diseased.  There  is  danger  here  as  well  as  else- 
where, and  indeed  everywhere.  A  morbid  conscientiousness 
makes  good  men  discern  evils  which  do  not  exist.  There  is 
danger  that  men  mistake  a  diseased  imagination  for  a  moral 
sense ;  and  it  was  well  said  by  Napoleon  Buonaparte,  that 
there  is  no  class  of  men  so  difficult  to  be  managed  in  a  State 
as  those  whose  intentions  are  honest,  but  whose  consciences 
are  bewitched.'  And,  when  the  religious  sentiment  becomes 
fanatical,  you  cannot  repress  it  by  threatening.  It  laughs  at 
the  shaking  of  a  spear.  You  cannot  silence  it  by  mere  cal- 
culations of  expediency.  You  might  as  well  put  a  bridle  on 
the  north  wind  as  forcibly  bridle  the  tongue  of  either  man  or 
woman  who  is  goaded  on  by  a  conscience  made  too  sharp  in 
its  friction  against  common  sense.  This  irritated  feeling  is 
calmed  quietly,  if  at  all ;  by  gentle  appliances,  if  by  any ;  and 
these  are  the  appliances  of  the  gospel.  And  here,  again,  we 
see  a  reason,  and  a  good  and  a  great  reason,  why  the  minis- 
ters of  this  gospel  are  needed  by  the  State  ;  for  their  business 
is  to  assuage  a  false  zeal  by  a  true  one,  to  call  up  one  religi- 
ous sentiment  which  may  modify  another,  to  qualify  fervor 
by  Christian  prudence,  to  restore  the  equilibrium  of  the  feel- 
ings, to  intreat  the  aid  of  Him  who  maketh  his  children  wise, 
and  thus  to  prevent  men  from  being  martyrs  by  mistake,  and 
from  making  imprisonment  the  conclusion  of  the  syllogism  of 
which  ignorance  and  fanaticism  are  the  major  and  the  minor 
premises.  And  there  is  one  sentiment,  which  is  a  religious 
one,  and  which  the  minister  may  often  evoke  for  the  allay- 
ing of  unwholesome  excitements  against  the  law. 

I  therefore  remark,  that  a  third  political  virtue  which  the 
pastor  favors  is  a  love  of  country.  The  names  of  Luther  and 
Melancthon  give  to  the  Saxon  and  the  Prussian  a  new  inter- 

1  "No  Buch  instruraont  to  carry  on  a  refined  and  well-woven  rebellion  as  a 
tender  conscience  and  a  sturdy  heart.  He  who  rebels  conscientiously,  rebels 
heartily." — Dr.  South. 


34  THE    INDEBTEDNESS    OF 

est  in  their  father-land.  Her  Bossuets  and  Fenelons  brighten 
the  glory  of  France  to  the  eye  of  her  citizens,  and  the  Lati- 
mers  and  Jeremy  Taylors  of  England  invest  with  a  singular 
charm  their  old  homes  and  mother  tongue.  It  is  natural 
that  the  fondness  of  parishioners  for  their  minister  should 
diffuse  itself  so  far  as  to  embrace  the  country  which  he  loves 
and  serves.  The  nature  of  his  office  is  peculiarly  congenial 
with  our  republican  institutions.  Even  when  it  was  most 
perverted,  and  when  other  high  functions  lay  under  an  he- 
reditary caste,  this  office  remained  open  to  all,  and  was  the 
only  avenue  of  the  poor  to  places  of  influence  and  trust.  So 
the  duties  of  the  office  are  eminently  republican.^  Scholars 
and  civilians  have  longed  in  vain  to  hear  the  eloquent  conver- 
sation of  Robert  Hall ;  but  the  framework-knitters  of  Leices- 
tershire were  sought  out  by  him,  and  were  comforted  by  the 
words  which  would  have  been  written  in  the  books  of  more 
learned  hearers.  Philosophers  have  made  a  pilgrimage  to 
Berlin  for  an  interview  with  Schleiermacher,  and  have  found 
him  conversing  with  the  children  of  peasants  in  the  streets. 
One  aim  of  the  Christian  ministry  is  to  develop  the  impor- 
tance of  every  individual  soul,  to  give  a  consciousness  of  their 
own  worth  to  the  lower  classes,  to  bring  together  both  the  rich 
and  the  poor  before  the  Maker  of  them  all,  and  thus  to  pre- 
vent the  evils,  if  not  the  existence,  of  pauperism.  Just  such 
is  the  genius  of  our  republican  institutions.  A  wfise  clergy- 
man—  but  every  clergyman  is  not  wise — will  love  a  repub- 
lic, for  it  stimulates  the  mind  to  an  enterprise  which  will  one 
day  become  a  Christian  zeal.  Its  citizens  are  not  joyous,  nor 
so  contented,  even,  as  are  many  subjects  of  a  monarch,  but 
they  are  trained  to  think  more,  to  know  more,  to  possess 
more  of  character,  of  real  manhood.     Hereby  are  they  fitted 

1  "  They  demand  that  the  minister  be  of  no  particular  caste,  but  that  he  be  a 
bond  of  union  between  all  castes ;  that  he  be  neither  a  patrician  solely,  nor  a 
plebeian  solely,  but  that  he  move  from  the  palace  to  the  cottage,  and  from  the 
cottage  to  the  palace,  as  a  man  who  is  at  home  wherever  he  can  commune  with  a 
human  souL" —  Chalmers'  Life.  Vol.  II.  p.  550. 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  86 

to  love  more,  to  be  more  vigorous  philanthropists,  to  be  more 
capacious  of  godly  thoughts,  to  have  more  of  that  individual- 
ity which  is  the  basis  of  rich  spiritual  gifts.^  A  wise  minister 
will  love  this  republic,  for  Cliristian  sympathies  gave  the  first 
impulse  to  it,^  and  it  is  in  its  spirit  a  humane,  considerate, 
and  Christian  republic,  and  it  has  been,  is  now,  and  —  he 
trusts  in  God  —  is  long  to  be,  an  asylum  for  the  persecuted 
church.  It  is  the  habit  of  his  religion  to  take  the  form  of 
patriotism.  His  professional  style  does  not  allow  him  to  say 
so  much  as  others  of  our  "  eagle,  stars  and  stripes,  the  beat 
of  our  drum,  and  the  thunder  of  our  cannon,"  but  he  feels 
inspired  by  their  influence  so  far  forth  as  they  are  expressions 
of  a  self-respect  which  may  add  to  the  dignity  of  Christian 
freemen.  The  pulpit  is  no  place  for  him  to  boast  of  our 
shores  bounding  either  ocean ;  still,  his  heart  is  expanded 
by  the  thought  of  them,  as  of  lines  of  light  which  are  to 
illumine  the  East  and  the  West,  Africa  and  Japan.  He  ex- 
pects to  dig  for  no  treasures  along  the  Sacramento,  for  he  is, 
and  is  to  be,  a  "  poor  wise  man  ; "  but  he  has  a  faith  that  the 
pillars  of  learned  schools  are  yet  to  be  laid  in  these  mines 
opened  by  human  science,  and  that  in  tliese  schools  religion 
is  yet  to  sit  enthroned,  and  "  girded  round  about  with  a 
golden  girdle."  His  pious  sympatliies  are  bound  up  with  the 
union  of  our  States ;  for  in  that  union  are  blended  the  inter- 

1  In  a  recent  lecture  of  the  Earl  of  Carlisle  (Lord  Morpeth),  he  says  of  our 
countrymen  :  "  One  of  their  able  public  men  made  an  observation  to  me  which 
struck  me  as  pungent,  and  perhaps  true,  that  [theirs  is]  probably  the  country  in 
which  there  is  less  misery  and  less  happiness  than  in  any  other  of  the  world." 
But  in  no  other  country  is  there  so  much  of  tact,  shrewdness,  common  sense, 
energy,  and  consequent  capability  of  exploits.  This  is  not  the  world  for  happi- 
ness, but  for  exertion  ;  and  therefore  a  philanthropist  who  sees  the  need  of  enter- 
prise and  toil  for  the  moral  education  of  the  race,  must  feel  a  peculiar  interest  in 
a  country  which,  like  our  own,  trains  men  for  high  efforts. 

*  John  Cotton  has  been  called  the  founder  of  Massachusetts  ;  Thomas  Hooker, 
the  founder  of  Connecticut ;  Roger  Williams,  the  founder  of  Rhode  Island,  etc. 
Our  own  clergymen,  too, —  Hopkins,  Mills,  Finley,  Ashmun, — gave  the  first  im- 
pulse to  the  Republic  of  Liberia.  Other  American  preachers  have  planted  and 
are  still  planting  the  germs  of  other  Republics. 


do  THE   INDEBTEDNESS   OP 

ests  of  free  thought  and  free  speech.  While  he  loves  his 
country  he  is  not  unmindful  of  its  sins,  and  in  laboring  to 
purify  it  from  evil  he  gains  a  clearer  view  of  its  capabilities 
for  good.  He  loves  it  for  these  capabilities.  He  loves  it 
because  its  place  in  the  geography  of  the  world  and  in  the 
history  of  the  world  gives  it  an  influence  over  the  eastern 
and  the  western  nations,  over  the  old  dynasties  and  the  new 
republics.  Never  does  he  inscribe  on  his  banner :  "  Our 
country  right  or  wrong,"  but  his  motto  is  :  "  Our  country  for 
the  right,  and  against  the  wrong."  He  remembers  the 
apostle  who,  while  rebuking  his  fellow  Israelites,  breathed 
the  self-denying  spirit  of  a  patriot,  saying  :  "  I  could  wish 
that  myself  were  anathema  from  Christ  for  my  brethren  — 
whose  are  the  fathers.''''  To  the  earlier  ministers  of  the  gos- 
pel the  spirit  of  true  patriotism  was  commended  by  him  who 
having  been  condemned  to  suffer  in  Jerusalem  charged  his 
disciples  to  perform  their  work  of  love  "  among  all  nations, 
beginning  at  Jerusalem."  ^ 

IV.  The  State  is  indebted  to.  the  clergy  for  their  efforts  in 
promoting  Christian  benevolence.  Such  benevolence  is  some- 
thing more  and  higher  than  the  religious  sentiment  and  the 
natural  virtues.  It  quickens,  regulates,  beautifies,  hallows 
them.  It  involves  a  holy  love  of  self,  relatives,  friends,  stran- 
gers, enemies  ;  of  one's  country,  one's  race,  the  world ;  of  all 
in  fit  proportion  to  each  other,  of  God  more  than  all ;  of  all  in 
their  relation,  their  due  subordination  to  God.  The  life  of 
many  a  pastor  who  cannot  calculate  on  living  for  two  years  in 
his  own  hired  house,  but  is  sent  from  town  to  town  by  the 

1  For  testimonies  to  the  good  influence  of  clergymen  in  the  early  days  of  our 
republic,  see  the  Address  of  President  Washington  to  the  Synod  of  the  Reformed 
Dutch  Church  of  North  America.  He  quotes  and  endorses  the  expression  of  the 
Synod,  that  "while  just  government  protects  all  in  their  religious  rights,  true 
religion  affords  to  government  its  surest  support."—  Sparks's  Writings  of  Wash- 
ington, Vol.  XII.  VV-  1^7,  405.  See  also  the  Letter  to  Washinffton  from  General 
Lincoln  acknowledging  the  jrood  and  "very  great  influence  of  the  clergy."  — 
Sparks's  Washington,  Vol.  IX.  p.  330. 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLEKGY.  37 

caprice  of  fickle  majorities,  and  who,  without  any  certain 
dwelling-place  for  himself,  submits  to  the  expectation  of 
leaving  his  widow  and  orphan  children  homeless  and  penni- 
less, and  who  still  perseveres  in  storing  his  mind  with  good 
thoughts  that  he  may  comfort  the  sick  and  sorrowing,  is 
an  example  of  this  benevolence.  Often,  at  least,  he  was 
prompted  by  this  virtue  to  enter  an  office  conventionally 
excluding  him  from  some  recreations  which  add  vigor  to 
other  men,  and  wasting  his  health  by  a  continuous  and  pecu- 
liar tax  on  his  sensibilities ;  an  office,  in  preparing  for  which 
he  has  anticipated  the  meagre  and  ill-paid  income  ^  so  need- 
ful for  the  supply  of  his  intellectual  wan-ts,  and  in  prosecut- 
ing which  he  is  often  humbled  by  the  deprivation  of  even  the 
conveniences  of  life  ;  and  still  he  magnifies  this  office  by  the 
cheerful  discharge  of  its  philanthropic  duties.  It  is  the  dif- 
fusive influence  of  this  virtue  that  exalteth  a  nation.  The 
Germans  gained  the  means  of  their  mental  supremacy  from 
Saint  Boniface,  when  he  carried  to  them  the  gospel  of  love. 
We  may  trace  the  preeminence  of  our  Anglo-Saxon  fathers 
to  the  mission  of  Saint  Austin,  who  commended  to  them  that 
godliness  which  is  profitable  unto  all  things.  Designing  to 
speak  with  a  sneer,  men  have  denominated  the  clergy  a 
"  spiritual   police,"  '^   employed   for   preventing   the   crimes 


1  A  small  salary  would  be  a  less  inadequate  recompense  for  the  labor  of  clergy- 
men, if  the  customs  of  society  and  their  own  mental  tendencies  allowed  them 
to  employ  those  economical  expedients  which  are  proper  for  men  of  a  less 
spiritual  vocation.  "We  have  took,"  says  Dr.  South,  "all  ways  to  affright 
and  discourage  scholars  from  looking  towards  this  sacred  calling;  for  will  men 
lay  out  their  wit  and  judgment  upon  that  employment  for  the  undertaking  of 
which  both  will  be  questioned  ?  " —  Sermon  on  1  Kings  13  :  33,  34.  One  of  the 
modern  Romish  fathers,  earning  his  daily  bread  by  teaching  the  Oriental  lan- 
guages and  working  as  a  compositor  in  a  printing-office,  had  for  his  motto : 
"Tribulations  are  my  distinction,  and  poverty  my  glory."  A  clergyman  who 
has  a  world-wide  reputation  remarked  in  his  extreme  old  age  :  "  If  I  live  three 
years  longer  I  shall  not  have  enough  property  left  to  pay  for  my  coffin."  But 
he  had  preached  so  often  against  the  love  of  filthy  lucre  that  he  was  not  suspected 
of  feeling  an  acute  pain  in  view  of  his  penniless  old  age. 

*  A  similar  title  has  been  sometimes  given  to  them,  without  any  intention  of 


38  THE   INDEBTEDNESS    OP 

which  the  civil  police  would  punish  with  carnal  weapons. 
But  in  the  sneer  lies  a  pleasant  truth.  Degrading  as  the 
phrase  may  seem,  true  religion  has  an  economical  value.  It 
was  given  for  the  State  as  well  as  for  individuals,  and  in  the 
reciprocity  of  benfits  the  State  was  by  its  first  Author  de- 
signed for  religion.  Men  have  organized  civil  society  with  a 
primary  intent  of  securing  physical  good,  as,  for  example, 
"  undisturbed  rest  within  unbarred  doors."  But  sleep  is  not 
the  final  good ;  it  is  a  mere  preparative  for  another  and 
higher  good.  Men  have  formed  the  State  with  an  immedi- 
ate aim  to  cultivate  the  mind ;  but  an  active  intellect  is  a 
means  to  an  end,  and  is  less  noble  than  the  end.  Meyi  have 
devised  the  State  with  a  primary  design  of  augmenting  their 
social  pleasures ;  but  He  who  made  the  State  necessary  for 
these  pleasures,  contrived  them  as  the  allurements  to  that 
love  which  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law.  Tlie  State  was  insti- 
tuted by  men  with  the  direct  purpose  of  multiplying  tlie  arts 
of  life  and  increasing  the  facilities  of  commerce  ;  but  the 
finest  of  the  arts  have  their  chief  value  as  persuasives  to  the 
beauty  of  holiness,  and  commerce  was  designed  of  Heaven  to 
encourage  the  circumnavigations  of  charity ;  for  what  shall  it 
profit  a  man  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and  have  none  of 
that  benevolence  which  is  the  life  of  the  soul  ?  Some  of  our 
fathers  erred  in  supposing  that  political  government  was  in- 
tended to  be  the  servitor  of  a  specified  Visible  church.'  No 
visible  church  is  pure  enough  to  receive  such  a  service. 
None  is  strong  enough  to  retain  its  benevolence  which  in- 
volves its  meekness,  when  it  looks  upon  the  State  as  its  hand- 
maid.    We  must  confess  the  humiliating  fact,  that  tlie  only 

nndervaluing  their  office.  In  the  Prussian  laws  they  are  called  Stncits-heamten. 
Dr.  Inglis  calls  the  clergy  a  "  moral  constabulary."  "  If  there  was  not  a  minis- 
ter in  every  parish,"  says  Dr.  South,  on  1  Kings  13  :  33,  34,  "  you  would  quickly 
find  cause  to  increase  the  niimber  of  constables  ;  and  if  the  churches  were  not 
employed  to  be  places  to  iiear  God's  law,  there  would  be  need  of  them  to  be 
prisons  for  the  breakers  of  the  laws  of  men." 

1  See  a  Discourse  about  Civil  Government  in  a  Plantation  whose  Design  is 
Religion  ;  by  Jolin  Cotton,  16G3. 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  39 

church  fit  to  be  thus  honored  by  rulers  is  the  Invisible.  The 
clergy  lose  their  official  life  when  they  find  it  amid  the  hon- 
ors of  State  patronage.  Such  honors  inflame  their  ambition 
or  their  envy  ;  and  clerical  ambition  and  clerical  envy,  taking 
hold  of  the  eternal  world  and  refining  themselves  with  the 
truth,  which,  even  when  perverted,  is  instinct  with  power, 
consume  the  best  sympathies  of  the  soul,  and  burn  to  the 
lowest  depths.  The  pride  of  the  fv^orld  is  superficial,  when 
compared  with  that  of  a  priesthood,  flattered  with  the  temp- 
tation of  wielding  the  strong  arm  of  a  civil  government  in 
the  enforcement  of  their  own  creed.  The  human  soul  is  too 
weak  to  bear  a  union  of  the  temporal  with  the  spiritual  au- 
thority. But  there  is  a  purer  church,  invisible,  composed  of 
all  men  of  all  sects  who  love  Jehovah  with  the  whole  soul 
and  their  neighbors  as  themselves,  who  love  their  country 
because  it  belongeth  to  him,  and  love  him  the  more  because 
among  other  and  richer  gifts  he  has  given  them  such  a  coun- 
try, who  obey  magistrates  "  for  the  Lord's  sake,"  and  wor- 
ship the  Lord  in  sustaining  the  "  ordinances  of  man,"  who 
have  that  benevolence  which  comprehends  in  itself  all  that  is 
most  amiable  in  character,  and  on  which  hang  all  the  law  and 
the  prophets.  Now,  it  is  to  enlarge  the  number  and  to  aug- 
ment the  excellence  of  such  men,  that  he  who  doeth  all  things 
for  eternity  hath  ordained  the  State.  And  it  is  with  the  same 
loving  aim  that  he  hath  also  ordained  the  ministers  of  the 
church.  These  ministers,  then,- serve  the  State  in  fulfilling 
its  last  and  noblest  destiny,  and  "  they  shall  bring  the  glory 
and  honor  of  the  nations  into"^  the  kingdom  of  heaven; 
while  the  State  aids  the  ministers  in  permitting  them  to 
think  what  they  please  and  to  preach  what  they  think.  The 
clergy  favor  the  Commonwealth  by  confining  themselves  to 
their  rightful  sphere  and  pleading  the  cause  of  virtue,  while 
the  Commonwealth  favors  the  clergy  by  confining  itself  to  its 
own  department,  and  securing  to  all  citizens  that  mental  and 
moral  liberty  which  is  a  means  of  spiritual  discipline.     The 

'  Hey  •*!  :  26. 


40  THE  INDEBTEDNESS  OP 

government  provides  a  system  of  elementary  instruction  for 
the  people,  and  thus  furnishes  worthy  minds  for  the  influ- 
ence of  the  pulpit ;  while  in  their  turn  the  clergy  hallow  the 
government  as  the  Lord's  anointed,  and  foster  those  habits 
of  pious  allegiance  which  are  the  protection  of  even  the  law 
itself.  The  servants  of  the  State  cut  the  cedar  trees  and  the 
fir  trees  and  the  algum  trees  out  of  Lebanon,  and  with  such 
materials  the  servants  of  the  church  build  the  temple,  with- 
out the  sound  of  a  hammer  or  axe  or  any  tool  of  iron,  and  in 
that  temple  offer  the  prayers  of  the  people  for  all  who  are 
iu  authority. 

NOTE  TO  PAGES  6-14. 

The  conclusion  of  this  discourse  as  originally  delivered  is  here 
omitted.  It  consisted  of  Addresses  to  (1)  the  Governor,  (2)  the 
Lieutenant  Governor,  (3)  the  Council  and  Legislature  (see  Preface, 
p.  1).  In  the  place  of  these  Addresses  the  following  remarks  are 
inserted  on  the  direct  and  indirect  influence  of  the  clergy  in  educat- 
ing the  people. 

The  direct  influence  of  British  divines  on  the  higher  education  of 
their  land  may  be  recognized  in  many  facts  not  mentioned  in  the 
preceding  pages.  In  his  "Law  Studies,"  §§153,  154,  160,  Mr. 
Warren  recommends  to  young  barristers  the  vpritiugs  of  William 
Chilliugworth,  and  says :  "  Chillingworth  is  the  writer,  whose  works 
are  recommended  for  the  exercitations  of  the  student.  Lord  Mans- 
field, than  whom  there  could  not  be  a  more  competent  authority, 
pronounced  him  to  be  a  perfect  model  of  argumentation.  Arch- 
bishop Tillotson  calls  him  '  incomparable,  the  glory  of  his  age  and 
nation.'  Locke  proposes  '  for  the  attainment  of  right  reasoning  the 
constant  reading  of  Chillingworth ;  who  by  his  example,'  he  adds, 
'  will  teach  both  perspicuity  and  the  way  of  nght  reasoning,  better 
than  any  book  that  I  know ;  and  therefore  will  deserve  to  be  read 
upon  that  account  over  and  over  again  ;  not  to  say  anything  of  his 
arguments.'  Lord  Clarendon,  also,  who  was  particularly  intimate 
with  him,  thus  celebrates  his  rare  talents  as  a  disputant :  '  Mr.  Chil- 
lingworth was  a  man  of  so  great  subtilty  of  understanding,  and  of  so 
rare  a  temper  in  debate,  that  as  it  was  impossible  to  provoke  him  into 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  41 

any  passion,  so  it  was  very  difficult  to  keep  a  man's  self  from  being 
a  little  discomposed  by  his  sharpness  and  quickness  of  argument  and 
instances,  in  which  he  had  a  rare  facility  and  a  great  advantac^e  over 
all  the  men  I  ever  knew.  He  had  spent  all  his  younger  time  in  dis- 
putation ;  and  had  arrived  at  so  great  a  mastery,  as  he  was  inferior 
to  no  man  in  these  skirmishes.'  — '  Chillingworth  has  been  named,  for 
the  reasons  above  assigned,  as  eminently  calculated  to  subserve  the 
purposes  of  mental  discipline  for  the  student.  He  need  not,  how- 
ever, be  the  only  one.  The  subtile  and  profound  reasonings  of 
Bishop  Butler,  the  pellucid  writings  of  Paley,  the  simplicity, 
strength,  and  perspicuity  of  Tillotson,  may  all  be  advantageously 
resorted  to  by  the  student  anxious  about  the  cultivation  of  his 
reasoning  faculties.'" 

The  influence  of  a  preacher  on  the  popular  vocabulary  is  often 
overlooked,  and  is  not  always  the  same ;  but  he  often  virtually 
stands  at  the  parish  gate,  to  let  in  one  book  and  keep  out  another ; 
to  admit  certain  words  and  to  exclude  certain  phrases,  and  to  intro- 
duce or  discard  barbarisms,  solecisms,  impropriety  and  looseness  of 
speech.  The  sermons  of  Leighton,  South,  Howe,  Bates,  Atterbury, 
and  Paley  show  somewhat  of  the  extent  to  which  the  literature  of 
England  is  indebted  to  her  priesthood.  When  Lord  Chatham  was 
asked  the  secret  of  his  dignified  and  eloquent  style,  he  replied  that 
he  had  read  twice  from  beginning  to  end  Bayley's  Dictionary, 
and  had  perused  some  of  Dr.  Barrow's  sermons  so  often  that  he  had 
learned  them  by  heart.  Other  statesmen  have  made  a  similar  remark 
in  regard  to  the  "  unfair  "  preacher.  Dryden  "  attributed  his  own 
accurate  knowledge  of  prose  writing  to  the  frequent  perusal  of  Til- 
lotson's  works."  "  Addison  regarded  them  as  the  chief  standard  of 
our  language,  and  actually  projected  an  English  dictionary  to  be 
illustrated  with  particular  phi-ases  to  be  selected  from  Tillotsou's 
sermons."  ''  There  is  a  living  writer,"  said  Dugald  Stewart,  "  who 
combines  the  beauties  of  Johnson,  Addison,  and  Burke  without  their 
imperfections.  It  is  a  dissenting  minister  of  Cambridge,  the  Kev. 
Robert  Hall.  Whoever  wishes  to  see  the  English  language  in  its 
perfection,  must  read  his  writings."  No  one  can  be  familiar  with 
the  style  of  Jeremy  Taylor  and  that  of  several  British  essayists, 
without  recognizing  his  influence  upon  them.  The  tincture  of  his 
phraseology  is  discernible  in  the  expressions  of  Charles  Lamb  even. 
The  character  of  Herbert's  writings  is  stamped  upon  those  of  Izaak 


42  THE  INDEBTEDNESS  OP 

Walton,  and  the  insinuating  power  of  Walton  upon  the  English  lan- 
guage has  not  been,  nor  will  it  be,  inconsiderable. 

Similar  in  kind  are  many  statements  which  may  be  made  in  regard 
to  American  divines.  A  late  professor  in  one  of  our  universities, 
who  has  been  famed  throughout  the  land  for  his  effective  eloquence 
at  the  bar,  and  on  the  floor  of  Congress,  says  that  he  first  learned 
how  to  reason  while  hearing  the  sermons  of  a  New  England  pastor, 
who  began  to  preach  before  he  had  studied  a  single  treatise  on  style 
or  speaking ;  and  two  or  three  erudite  jurists,  who  dislike  the  theo- 
logical opinions  of  this  divine,  have  recommended  his  sermons  to 
law  students  as  models  of  logical  argument  and  affording  a  kind  of 
gymnastic  exercise  of  the  mind.  Judge  Sedgwick,  Judge  Story, 
Judge  Shaw,  Judge  Metcalf,  and  other  New  England  jurists,  have 
acknowledged  their  intellectual  indebtedness  to  the  sermons  which 
they  heard  in  their  early  days.  It  is  said  that  those  sermons  were 
often  above  the  comprehension  of  their  hearers.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered, however,  that  in  the  olden  time  there  was  an  intellectual 
aristocracy  in  many  a  rural  township  where  now  there  is  none.  A 
select  circle,  including  several  families  of  culture,  gathered  round 
the  clergyman,  and  they  did  much  in  diffusing  the  influence  of  his 
sermons  among  their  less  enlightened  townsmen.  Men  learned  that 
the  truths  of  religion  were  linked  with  each  other,  and  if  one  fell 
out  a  second  and  a  third  would  fall  out  also  ;  that  the  whole  system 
was  to  be  preserved  in  its  integrity,  and  that  the  welfare  of  the 
nation  as  well  as  of  the  church  depended  upon  the  truths  of  the  gos- 
pel, all  interlinked  with  each  other.  When  Dr.  Stephen  West  was 
pastor  at  Stockbridge,  Mass.,  six  of  his  parishioners  were  judges  of 
Massachusetts  courts.  Rev.  Dr.  Timothy  Woodbridge,  one  of  his 
parishioners,  writes  :  "  When  I  was  a  very  young  man,  I  used  to 
attend  a  meeting  for  debate  in  which  were  from  ten  to  twenty 
persons  liberally  educated  and  residing  in  the  parish.  Some  of  them 
were  law  students,  and  some  theological  students.  Our  pastor 
interested  the  students  of  law  as  well  as  the  students  of  divinity." 
His  educating  influence  was  highly  prized  by  Theodore  Sedgwick, 
John  Thornton  Kirkland,  and  other  eminent  men. 

By  the  influence  which  a  minister's  own  mind  receives  from  the 
habit  of  sermonizing  he  often  excites  the  youth  in  his  society  to  a 
course  of  liberal  education.  By  the  same  influence  he  has  often 
been  induced  to  become  the  instructor  of  u  training  school.     Very 


THE  STATE  TO  THE  CLERGY.  43 

much  through  the  instrumentality  of  a  single  clergyman  living  in  a 
retired  part  of  Massachusetts,  thirty  young  men  of  his  parish  were 
trained  for  professional  life.  More  than  this  number  have  gone  to 
our  colleges  from  a  single  religious  society  in  New  Hampshire.  The 
Rev.  Moses  Hallock,  of  Plainfield,  Mass.,  prepared  about  a  hundred 
youth  for  college  ;  Dr.  Wood,  of  Boscawen,  New  Hampshire,  pre- 
pared the  same  number,  and  among  them  his  two  parishioners,  Eze- 
kiel  and  Daniel  Webster.  A  hundred  and  sixty-two  young  men 
were  educated  by  a  plain  pastor  in  the  neighborhood  of  Boscawen, 
and  about  thirty  of  them  became  members  of  the  learned  professions. 
Each  of  these  clergymen  will  long  live  in  his  pupils,  and,  whatever 
may  have  been  his  own  literary  attainments,  will  produce,  and  has 
produced,  a  visible  effect  on  the  literary  character  of  multitudes. 
This  effect  was  not  indeed  produced  by  sermons  altogether,  but  in 
some  degree ;  not  merely  by  their  direct  influence  upon  the  auditor, 
but  also  by  their  reflex  operation  upon  the  preacher  himself.  His 
appropriate  work  inspires  and  prepares  him  for  subordinate  literary 
labors. 

It  was  not  the  design  of  the  preceding  sermon  to  state  the  facts 
which  illustrate  the  indirect  influence  of  a  preacher  upon  the  intel- 
lectual character  of  man.  This  influence  may  be  illustrated  not 
merely  by  insulated  facts,  but  also  by  connected  chains  of  facts.  His 
great  work  has  been  accomplished  in  cherishing  the  graces  of  the 
heart ;  but  in  cherishing  these  graces  he  has  performed  a  subordinate 
work  upon  the  mind.  Men  seldom  speak  of  John  Newton  as  an 
intellectual  benefactor  of  his  race  ;  but  we  are  now  feehng  his  influ- 
ence in  the  hymns  and  letters  of  Cowper,  who  was  in  some  degree 
moulded  by  John  Newton  ;  in  the  writings  of  Buchanan  who  owed 
his  religious  character  to  the  instrumentality  of  the  same  divine, — 
writings  which  are  said  to  have  first  awakened  the  missionary  spirit 
of  our  own  Judson  ;  in  the  works  of  Dr.  Scott,  another  monument 
of  Newton's  fidelity,  and  a  spiritual  guide  to  hundreds  of  preachers 
and  thousands  of  laymen  ;  in  the  words  and  deeds  of  Wilberforce 
who  ascribed  a  large  share  of  his  own  usefulness  to  the  example  and 
counsels  of  the  same  spiritual  father.  Edmund  Burke  on  his  death- 
bed sent  an  expression  of  thanks  to  IMr.  Wilberforce  for  writing  the 
Practical  Christianity,  a  treatise  which  Burke  spent  the  last  two 
days  of  his  life  in  perusins.  and  from  which  he  confessed  himself  to 
have  derived  much  profit ;  a  treatise  which  has  reclaimed  hundreds 


44         THE  INDEBTEDNESS   OP   THE   STATE   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

of  educated  men  from  irreligion,  but  which  would  probably  never 
have  been  what  it  now  is,  had  not  its  author  been  favored  with 
Newton's  advice  and  sympathy. 

George  Whitefield  made  so  little  pretension  to  scholarship  that 
men  often  smile  when  he  is  called  a  pioneer  of  a  great  improvement 
in  the  literature  of  England  and  America.  They  overlook  the 
masculine  and  transforming  energy  of  the  religious  principle  when 
stirred  up,  as  it  was,  by  his  preaching  against  the  pride  and  indul- 
gences and  selfishness  of  men.  His  eighteen  thousand  addresses 
from  the  pulpit  gave  an  impulse  to  the  mental  activity  of  friends  and 
foes  of  evangelical  religion.  His  power  was  felt  by  Hume,  Boling- 
broke,  Foote,  Chesterfield,  Garrick,  Riltenhouse,  Franklin,  Erskine, 
and  Edwards  ;  by  the  miners  and  colliers  and  fishermen  of  England, 
the  paupers  and  slaves  and  Indians  of  America.  "  Had  Whitefield 
never  been  at  Cambuslang,  Buchanan,  humanly  speaking,  might 
never  have  been  at  Malabar."  We  may  add  that  if  Whitefield  had 
never  been  at  Northampton,  Bethlem,  Exeter,  and  Newburyport, 
the  Andover  Theological  Seminary  might  never  have  existed.  His 
influence  has  been  recently  traced,  percolating  through  various  agents 
until  it  reached  the  men  who  started  that  institution. 

So  we  may  believe  that  the  college  at  Princeton  was  affected  in 
no  small  measure  by  the  influence  of  David  Brainerd.  His  intelli- 
gence and  zeal  gave  a  perceptible  impulse  to  the  cause  of  education 
in  the  state  of  New  Jersey.  He  exerted  an  obvious  power  on  the 
men  who  founded  the  celebrated  ''  Log  College,"  and  on  the  men 
who  afterwards  established  Nassau  Hall.  Rev.  Dr.  David  Dudley 
Field  in  his  work,  entitled  '•  The  Genealogy  of  the  Brainerd  Family," 
says :  "  I  once  heard  the  Hon.  John  Dickinson,  chief  Judge  of  the 
Middlesex  County  Court,  Connecticut,  and  son  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dick- 
inson of  Norwalk,  say,  '  that  the  establishment  of  Princeton  College 
was  owing  to  the  sympathy  felt  for  David  Brainerd,  because  the 
authorities  of  Yale  College  would  not  give  him  his  degree,  and  that 
the  plan  of  the  college  was  drawn  up  in  his  father's  house ' "  (pp. 
265,  266).  We  need  not  insist  that  the  College  owed  its  existence 
to  the  mere  sympathy  with  Brainerd  in  his  expulsion  from  Yale  ;  but 
we  may  believe  that  it  owed  a  large  share  of  its  early  prosperity 
to  the  power  of  Brainerd's  life  and  labors.  —  See  Dr.  Archibiild 
Alexander's  work,  entitled  "The  Log  College,"  p.  127;  also  Dr. 
John  McLean's  History  of  the  College  of  New  Jersey,  pp.  55-57. 


II. 

THE  PROMINENCE  OF  THE  ATONEMENT/ 


1    CORINTHIANS      II.    2. 

rOR    I    DETEBMIHED     NOT    TO    KNOW    ANYTHING    AMONG    YOU     8AVB    JESUS    CHEI8T, 
AND    HIM     CRUCIFIED. 

Should  the  apostle  who  penned  this  eloquent  expression 
resume  his  ministry  on  earth,  and  should  he  deign  to  hold 
converse  with  us  on  the  principles  of  his  high  calling,  and 
should  he  repeat  his  strong  words  :  I  am  now,  as  of  old, 
determined  not  to  know  anything  among  you  save  Jesus 
Christ,  and  Him  crucified  ;  some  of  us  would  feel  an  impulse 
to  ask  him : 

"  Can  your  words  mean  what  they  appear  to  imply  ?  You 
are  learned  in  Rabbinical  literature;  you  have  read  the 
Grecian  poets,  and  even  quoted  from  Aratus ;  you  have 
examined  the  statuary  of  Greece,  and  have  made  a  perma- 
nent record  of  an  inscription  upon  an  altar  in  ancient 
Athens;  you  have  reasoned  on  the  principles  of  Aristotle 
from  effect  to  cause,  and  have  taken  rank  with  the  philoso- 
phers, as  well  as  orators  of  the  world ;  and  now,  you  seem 
to  utter  your  determination  to  abandon  all  knowledge  save 
that  which  concerns  the  Jew  who  was  crucified.  You  once 
said  that  you  had  rather  speak  five  words  with  the  under- 
standing, than  ten  thousand  words  in  an  unknown  tongue ; 
and  here,  lest  the  pithy  language  of  this  text  should  fail  of 

1  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Dedication  of  the  Broadway  Tabernacle,  New 
York,  April  24,  1859. 


46  THE    PROMINENCE   OF   THE    ATONEMENT. 

being  truly  apprehended,  we  desire  to  learn  its  precise  mean- 
ing in  three  particulars. 

"  In  the  first  place,  do  you  intend  to  assert  that  our  knowl- 
edge is  controlled  by  our  will  ?  You  determined  not  to  know 
anything  save  one  ?  Can  you  by  mere  choice  expel  all  but 
one  of  your  old  ideas,  and  make  your  mind  like  a  chart  of 
white  paper  in  reference  to  the  vast  majority  of  your  familiar 
subjects  of  thought?" 

'  I  am  ready  to  concede,'  is  the  reply,  '  that  much  of 
our  knowledge  is  involuntary ;  still  a  part  of  it  is  depend- 
ent on  our  will.  In  some  degree,  at  some  times,  we  may 
attend  to  a  theme  or  not  attend  to  it,  as  we  choose,  and  thus 
our  choice  may  influence  our  belief,  and  thus  are  we  respon- 
sible, in  a  certain  measure,  for  our  knowledge.  Besides,  the 
word  "  know"  is  used  by  us  Hebraistic  writers  to  include  not 
only  a  mental  apprehension,  but  also  a  moral  feeling.  When 
we  know  Christ,  we  feel  a  hearty  complacence  in  him. 
Again,  to  "know"  often  signifies  to  manifest^  as  well  as  to 
possess,  botli  knowledge  and  love.  We  do  not  know  an  old 
acquaintance  when  we  of  set  purpose  withhold  all  public 
recognition  of  him,  and  act  outwardly  as  if  we  were  inwardly 
ignorant  of  his  being.  But  I,  Paul,  say  to  you,  as  I  said  to 
the  Corinthians,  that  I  shall  make  the  atonement  of  Christ, 
and  nothing  but  the  atonement  of  Christ,  the  main  theme  of 
my  regard,  of  my  loving  regard,  and  such  loving  regard  as 
is  openly  avowed.' 

Thus  our  first  query  is  answered ;  but  there  is  a  second 
inquiry  which  some  of  us  would  propose  to  the  apostle,  were 
he  uttering  to  us  personally  the  words  which  he  wrote  to  the 
Corinthians.     It  is  this  : 

"  Should  a  Christian  minister  out  of  the  pulpit,  as  well  as 
in  the  pulpit,  know  nothing  save  the  crucified  one  ?  Did  you 
not  know  how  to  sustain  yourself  by  the  manufacture  of 
tents  ;  and  did  you  not  say  to  the  circle  of  elders  at  Ephesus : 


THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE    ATONEMENT.  47 

These  hands  have  ministered  to  my  necessities?  Did  you 
not  dispute  with  the  Roman  sergeants  —  plead  your  cause 
before  the  Roman  courts  ?  Must  not  every  minister  cease 
for  a  time  to  converse  on  the  work  of  Jesus,  and  must  he 
not  tliink  of  providing  for  his  own  household,  lest  he  become 
worse  than  an  infidel  ?  " 

'  I  am  willing  to  admit,'  is  the  reply,  '  that  the  pulpit 
is  the  place  where  the  minister  should  speak  of  Christ  with 
more  uniform  distinctness  than  in  other  places ;  but  there 
are  no  places,  and  no  times,  in  which  he  should  fail  to  mani- 
fest, more  or  less  obviously,  his  interest  in  his  Redeemer. 
AVherever  he  goes,  he  has  a  pulpit.  Whether  he  eat  or 
drink,  or  whatever  he  do,  he  must  do  all  for  the  glory  of 
God,  and  tlio  highest  glory  of  God  is  Christ,  and  the  highest 
honor  of  Christ  is  in  Him  crucified.  A  minister  must 
always  respect  the  proprieties  of  life ;  in  honoring  them  he 
knoivs  that  appropriate  model  man,  who,  rising  from  the 
tomb,  wrapped  up  the  napkin  that  was  about  His  head,  and 
laid  it  in  a  place  by  itself.  Now  the  proprieties  of  life  do 
require  a  minister  to  speak  in  the  pulpit  on  themes  more 
plainly  and  more  easily  connected  with  the  atonement,  than 
are  various  themes  on  which  he  must  speak  in  the  market- 
place or  in  the  schools.  But  all  subjects  on  which  he  may 
discourse  do  lead,  sooner  or  later,  more  or  less  obviously  and 
easily,  to  the  great  work  of  Jesus :  and  he  should  converse 
on  them  with  the  intent  of  seizing  every  hint  they  give  him, 
following  out  every  line  to  which  they  point  him,  in  the 
direction  of  the  Cross.  I  have  been  in  many  synagogues, 
and  in  the  temple,  and  on  Mars'  Hill,  and  on  a  Mediterra- 
nean ship-deck,  and  once  was  I  hurried  along  in  a  night-ride 
from  Jerusalem  to  Caesarea  with  four  hundred  and  seventy 
soldiers,  horsemen  and  spearmen.  I  have  resided  at  leisure 
with  my  arm  chained  to  a  Roman  guard  in  a  prison  at  the 
Capital  of  the  Roman  Empire  ;  but  in  all  such  places  I  have 
felt,  and  everywhere  I  do  feel,  bound  to  speak  out,  and  to  act 
out,  all  tlic  interest  which  the  fitnesses  of  the  occasion  admit, 


48  THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE    ATONEMENT. 

in  the  atonement  of  Jesus ;  and  not  to  manifest,  and  not  to 
feel  any  interest  in  any  theme  which  may  lessen  my  regard 
for  this  —  the  chiefest  among  ten  thousand  ! ' 

But  there  is  a  third  question  which  some  of  us  would 
propose  to  the  apostle,  were  he  to  speak  in  our  hearing  the 
words  of  the  text : 

"  Should  every  man,  as  well  as  every  minister,  cherish  and 
exhibit  no  interest  in  anything  but  Christ  ?  Should  a  sailor 
at  the  mast-head,  a  surgeon  in  the  extirpation  of  the  clavicle, 
a  warrior  in  the  critical  moment  of  the  last  charge,  look  at 
nothing,  and  hear  of  nothing  but  the  Cross?  Must  not 
every  one  conduct  businesses  and  sustain  cares  which  draw 
his  mind  away  from  the  atonement  ?  " 

'  I  am  ready  to  grant,'  is  the  reply,  '  that  some  duties  are 
less  plainly  and  less  intimately  connected  than  others  with 
the  work  of  Jesus ;  but  all  of  them  are  connected  with  it  in 
some  degree,  and  this  connection  may  be  seen  by  all  who 
choose  to  gain  the  fitting  insight.  The  great  principle  of 
duty  belonging  to  the  minister  in  the  pulpit,  belongs  to  him 
everywhere  ;  and  the  great  principle  of  duty  belonging  to 
the  minister,  belongs  to  every  man,  woman,  and  cliild. 
There  is  not  one  religion  for  the  man  when  he  is  in  the 
temple,  and  another  religion  for  the  man  when  he  is  in  the 
parlor  or  in  the  street.  There  is  not  one  law  for  the  ordained 
pastor,  and  another  law  for  the  tradesman  or  the  mechanic. 
The  same  law  and  no  different  one ;  the  same  religion  and 
no  different  one,  are  the  law  and  the  religion  for  apostles, 
and  publicans,  and  prophets,  and  taxgatherers,  and  patri- 
archs, and  children,  and  nobles,  and  beggars.  Every  man  is 
bidden  to  refuse  everything,  if  it  be  the  nearest  friend,  who 
interferes  with  the  claims  of  the  Messiali ;  and  therefore 
every  man,  layman  as  well  as  clergyman,  must  keep  his  eye 
fixed  primarily  upon  the  Cross.  He  may  see  other  things 
within  the  range  of  that  cross,  but  he  must  keep  the  Cross 
directly  at  the  angle  of  his  vision,  and  allow  nothing  else, 


THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT.  49 

when  placed  side  by  side  with  the  tree  on  Calvary,  to  allure 
his  eye  away  from  that  central,  engrossing  object.' 

Here  then  is  our  third  question  answered  ;  and  in  these 
three  replies  to  these  three  queries,  we  perceive  the  meaning 
of  our  text  to  be :  that  not  the  preacher  only,  but  the  hearer 
likewise,  not  on  the  first  day  only,  but  on  every  day  like- 
wise, not  in  the  religious  assembly  only,  but  in  all  assemblies, 
and  in  all  solitudes  likewise,  must  every  man  adopt  the  rule, 
to  give  his  voluntary,  his  loving,  his  secret  and  open  regard 
to  nothing  so  much  as  to  the  character  and  work  of  his 
Redeemer. 

Having  inquired  into  the  meaning  of  the  apostle's  words, 
let  us  proceed,  in  the  next  place,  to  inquire  into  the  impor- 
tance of  making  the  atonement  of  Christ  the  only  great 
object  of  our  thought,  speech,  and  action. 

And  here,  did  we  hold  a  personal  interview  with  the  author 
of  our  text,  we  should  be  prompted  to  put  three  additional 
queries  before  him.     Our  first  inquiry  would  be  : 

"  Is  not  your  theme  too  contracted  ?  It  is  well  to  know 
Christ,  but  in  all  the  varying  scenes  of  life,  is  it  well  not  to 
know  anything  else  ?  Will  not  the  pulpit  become  wearisome 
if,  spring  and  autumn,  summer  and  winter,  it  confine  itself 
to  a  single  topic  ?  We  have  known  men  preach  themselves 
out  by  incessant  repetitions  of  the  scene  at  Calvary,  —  a 
scene  thrilling  in  itself,  and  on  that  very  account  not  bear- 
ing to  be  presented  in  its  details,  every  Sabbath  day.  How 
much  less  will  the  varying  sensibilities  of  the  soul  endure 
the  reiteration  of  this  tragic  tale  every  day  and  at  every 
interview !  Such  extreme  familiarity  induces  irreverence. 
The  Bible  is  not  confined  to  this  theme.  It  is  rich  in  eccle- 
siastical history,  political  history,  ethical  rules,  metaphysical 
discussion,  comprehensive  theology.  It  contains  one  book 
of  ten  chapters  which  has  not  a  single  allusion  to  God,  and 
several  books  which  do  not  mention  Christ ;    why  then  do 


50  THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT. 

you  shut  US  up  to  a  doctrine  which  will  circumscribe  the 
mind  of  good  men,  and  result  in  making  their  conversation 
insipid  ? " 

'  Contracted ! '  —  this  is  the  reply,  — '  and  do  you  consider 
this  topic  a  limited  one,  whose  height,  depth,  length,  breadth, 
no  finite  mind  can  measure  ?     Of  what  would  you  speak  ? ' 

"  We  would  speak  of  the  Divine  existence." 

'  But  Christ  is  the  "  I  am."  ' 

"  We  would  speak  of  the  Divine  attributes." 

'  But  Christ  is  the  Alpha  and  Omega ;  He  searcheth  the 
reins  and  trieth  the  hearts  of  men  ;  He  is  the  same  yesterday, 
to-day,  and  forever  ;  full  of  grace  and  truth  ;  to  Him  belong 
wisdom  and  power  and  glory  and  honor ;  of  His  dominion  is 
no  end.     Of  what  then  would  you  speak  ? ' 

"  We  would  speak  of  the  Divine  sovereignty." 

'  But  Christ  taught  us  to  say :  Even  so  Father,  for  so  it 
seemed  good  in  Thy  sight  —  and  He  and  His  Father  are 
one.' 

"  We  would  converse  on  the  Divine  decrees." 

'  But  all  things  are  planned  for  His  praise  who  was  in 
Christ,  and  in  whom  Christ  was  at  the  beginning.' 

"  We  would  discourse  on  electing  love." 

'  But  the  saints  are  elect  in  Christ  Jesus.' 

"  We  would  utter  many  words  on  the  creation  of  men  and 
angels." 

'  Now  by  our  Redeemer  were  all  things  created  that  are  in 
heaven  and  that  are  in  the  earth,  visible  and  invisible.' 

•'  We  would  converse  on  the  preservation  of  what  has 
been  created." 

'  Now  Christ  upholdeth  all  things  by  the  word  of  His 
power.     What  would  you  have,  then,  for  your  theme  ?' 

"  We  would  take  the  flowers  of  the  field  for  our  theme." 

'  But  they  are  the  delight,  as  well  as  the  contrivance  of 
the  Redeemer.' 

"  We  would  take  for  our  theme  the  globes  in  space." 

*  But  they  arc  the  work  of  His  fingers.' 


THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT.  61 

**Then  we  would  take  the  very  winds  of  heaven  for  our 
theme,  lawless  and  erratic  as  they  are." 

'  But  Jesus  taught  us  to  comment  upon  these  as  an  illus- 
tration of  his  truth  ;  his  poetic  mind  gave  us  the  conception 
that  the  wind  bloweth  where  it  chooseth  to  blow,  and  we 
look  on,  wondering  whence  it  cometh,  and  whither  it  goeth ; 
knowing  only  that  it  is  the  breath  of  the  Wonderful  Coun- 
sellor, who  arouseth  it  as  he  listeth,  or  saith,  Peace,  be  still. 
What  else  then  do  you  prefer  for  your  topic  of  conversa- 
tion?' 

"  We  prefer  the  laws  of  nature  for  our  topic." 

*  But  in  them  the  Father  worketh  and  Christ  worketh 
equally.' 

"If  it  be  so,  we  will  select  the  fine  and  useful  arts  for  our 
subject." 

'  But  all  the  materials  of  these  arts,  and  all  the  laws 
which  compact  them,  and  all  the  ingenuity  which  arranges 
them,  are  of  his  architectonic  plan.  He  is  the  guide  of  the 
sculptor,  painter,  musician,  poet.  He  is  the  contriver  of  all 
the  graces  which  we  in  our  idolatry  ascribe  to  the  human 
discoverer,"  as  if  man  had  originally  invented  them.  The 
history  of  the  arts  is  the  history  of  Christ's  government  on 
earth.  Will  you  propose,  then,  some  other  theme  for  your 
remark  ? ' 

"  Do  let  us  converse  on  the  moral  law." 

'  You  may  ;  but  Christ  gave  this  law,  and  came  to  magnify 
it.' 

"  Then  let  us  comment  on  the  ceremonial  law." 

'  You  may ;  but  all  its  types  are  prophecies  of  Jesus,' 

"  Then  we  will  expatiate  on  virtue  in  the  general." 

'  Do  so ;  but  Christ  is  the  first  exemplar,  the  brightest 
representative  of  all  abstract  goodness,  of  all  your  virtue  in 
the  general.' 

"  Then  we  will  take  up  ethical  maxims." 

'  Take  them  up ;  but  they  are  embodied  in  Him  who  is  the 
way.  the  truth,  the  life.' 


52  THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT. 

"  We  will  resort  then  to  human  responsibility  for  our 

subject  of  discourse." 

'  But  we  must  all  appear  before  the  judgment  seat  of  that 

fair-minded  arbiter  who  is  man  as  well  as  God.' 
"  May  we  not  speak  of  eternal  blessedness  ? " 
'  Yes ;    but  it  is  Christ  who  welcomes   his  chosen   into 

life.' 

"  Shall  we  not  converse,  then,  on  endless  misery  ?" 

'  Yes ;    but  it  is   Christ  who  will  proclaim :    Depart  ye 

cursed.' 

"  The  human  body ;  —  we  would   utter  some  words  on 

that" 

"  But  your  present  body  is  the  image  of  what  your  Lord 

wore  once,  and  the  body  that  you  will  have,  if  you  die  in  the 

faith,  is  the  image  of  what  your  Lord  wears  now;  —  the 

image  of  the  body  slain  for^  our  offences  and  raised  again  for 

our  justification.     And  have  you  still  a  favorite  theme  which 

you  have  not  suggested  ?' 

"  The  pleasures  of  life  are  our  favorite  theme." 
'  Yes,  and  Jesus  provided  them  and  graced  them  at  Cana.' 
"  The  duties  of  the  household  are  our  favorite  theme." 
'  Yes,  and  Jesus  has  prescribed  them  and  disciplines  you 

by  them,  and  will  judge  you  for  your  manner  of  regarding 

them.     "What  would  you  have,  then,  what  can  you  think  of 

for  your  choice  topic  of  discourse  ? ' 

"  We  love  to  talk  of  our  brethren  in  the  faith." 

'  But  they  are  indices  of  Christ,  and  he  is  represented  by 

them.' 

"  We  choose  to  converse  on  our  Redeemer's   indigent, 

imprisoned,  diseased,  agonized  followers." 

'  And  he  is  an  hungered,  athirst,  penniless,  afflicted  in 

them,  and  whatsoever  we  do  to  one  of  them  we  do  to  him, 

and  what  we  say  of  one  of  them  we  say  of  him.' 
"  May  we  speak  in  the  pulpit  of  slaves  ?' 
'  Of  slaves  I     Can  you  not  speak  of  Medes  and  Parthians, 

Indians  and  Arabians  ?     Why  not  then  of  Africans  ?     Have 


THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT.  63 

they,  or  have  they  not  immortal  souls  ?  Was  Jesus,  or  was 
he  not  crucified  for  them  ?  Was  he  ashamed  of  the  lowly 
and  the  down-trodden,  and  those  who  have  become  the 
reproach  of  men  and  the  despised  of  the  people  ?  You  may 
speak  of  all  for  whom  Christ  died ;  as  all  men,  bond  or  free, 
and  all  things,  globes  or  atoms,  suggest  thoughts  leading  in 
a  right  line  or  in  a  curved  line  to  the  cross  of  Christ.  All 
things  being  thus  nearly  or  remotely  suggestive  of  the 
atonement,  are  for  your  sakes,  whether  Paul,  or  Apollos,  or 
Cephas,  or  the  world,  or  life,  or  death,  or  things  present,  or 
things  to  come ;  all  are  yours,  for  your  thoughts,  for  your 
words.  If  things  pertain  to  the  divine  essence,  the  whole  of 
that  is  the  essence  of  Jesus ;  if  they  pertain  to  the  divine 
relations,  all  of  them  are  the  relations  of  Jesus;  if  they 
pertain  to  the  noblest  and  brightest  features  of  seraphs,  all 
the  angels  of  God  bow  down  before  Jesus  ;  if  they  pertain 
to  the  minutest  changes  of  human  life,  in  all  our  vicissitudes 
Jesus  keeps  up  his  brotherhood  with  us ;  if  they  pertain  to 
the  vilest  and  darkest  spot  of  our  depravity,  they  pertain 
to  Jesus,  —  for  to  speak  aright  of  sin  is  to  be  determined  to 
speak  of  Christ,  and  of  him  crucified  for  sin. 

'And  is  this  the  doctrine  which  men  call  a  contracted 
one  ?  Narrow !  The  very  suspicion  of  its  being  narrow  has 
now  suggested  the  first  reason  why  you  should  place  it  and 
keep  it  as  the  crown  of  all  your  words  and  deeds:  —  it  is 
so  large,  so  rich,  so  boundless,  that  you  need  nothing  which 
excludes  it.  And  therefore,'  continues  the  apostle,  '  I  mean 
to  know  and  to  love  nothing,  and  to  make  it  manifest  that  I 
care  for  nothing,  in  comparison  with,  and  disconnected  from, 
the  God-man,  as  he  developes  all  his  attributes  and  all  his 
relations  on  the  cross.' 

But  were  the  author  of  these  laconic  words  in  a  familiar 
conference  with  us,  we  might  be  tempted  to  address  to  him 
a  second  inquiry : 

"  Is  not  your  theme  too  large  ?     At  first  we  deemed  it  too 


64  THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT. 

small,  but  now  it  swells  out  before  us  into  such  colossal 
dimensions  that  we  change  our  ground,  and  ask :  Can  the 
narrow  mind  of  man  take  in  this  multiplicity  of  relations, 
comprehended  in  both  the  natures,  and  in  the  redemptive, 
as  well  as  all  the  other  works  of  Christ  ?  Do  not  our  frail 
powers  need  one  day  as  a  day  of  rest,  and  one  place  as  a 
sanctuary  of  repose,  from  every  thought  less  tender  than 
that  of  the  atoning  death  itself?  Must  we  not  call  in  our 
minds  from  Christ  and  him  crucified,  so  as  to  concentrate 
all  our  emotions  on  the  simple  fact  of  Christ  crucified  ? " 

'  Too  large  a  theme!' — this  is  the  reply,  — '  It  is  a  large 
theme,  too  large  to  be  fully  comprehended  by  finite  intelli- 
gences. Men  have  dreamed  of  exhausting  the  atonement, 
by  defining  it  to  be  a  plan  for  removing  the  obstacles  which 
stand  in  the  way  of  our  pardon.  It  is  too  large  for  that 
definition,  as  the  atonement  also  persuades  the  Most  High  to 
forgive  us.  Then  men  have  thought  to  mark  it  round  about 
by  saying,  that  it  is  a  scheme  for  inducing  God  to  interpose 
in  our  aid.  But  the  atonement  is  too  large  for  that  defining 
clause,  as  it  also  presents  motives  to  man  for  accepting  the 
interposition  of  God.  Then  some  have  thought  to  define  it 
exactly,  by  saying  that  the  atonement  is  both  an  appeal  to  the 
Lawgiver  and  also  an  appeal  to  the  sinner.  Too  large  still 
is  the  atonement  for  that  explanation.  It  is  an  appeal  to 
both  God  and  man,  but  it  is  more.  It  is  an  appeal  to  the 
universe,  and  is  as  many-sided,  as  the  universe  itself  is  to  be 
variously  affected.  Can  we  by  searching  fiiid  out  the  whole 
of  atoning  love  ?  It  is  the  love  of  him  who  stretched  out 
his  arms  on  the  fatal  wood,  and  pointed  to  the  right  hand 
and  to  the  left  hand,  and  raised  his  eyes  upward,  and  cast 
them  downward,  and  thus  all  things  above  and  below,  and 
on  either  side,  he  embraced  in  his  comprehensive  love.  It  is 
a  large  theme,  but  not  too  large  to  operate  as  a  motive  upon 
us.  The  immeasurable  reach  of  a  motive  is  the  hiding  of 
its  power.  The  mind  of  man  is  itself  expansive,  and  requires 
and  will  have  something  immense  and  infinite  of  truth  or 


THE  PROMINENCE  OF  THE  ATONEMENT.         65 

error,  either  overpowering  it  for  good  or  overmastering  it  for 
evil.  The  atonement  is  a  great  theme,  but  not  too  great ; 
and  for  this  additional  reason :  Its  greatness  lies,  in  part,  in 
its  reducing  all  other  doctrines  to  a  unity,  its  arranging  them 
around  itself  in  an  order  which  makes  them  all  easily  under- 
stood. We  know  in  other  things  the  power  of  unity  amid 
variety.  We  know  how  simple  the  geography  of  a  laud 
becomes  by  remembering  that  its  rivers,  although  meander- 
ing in  unnumbered  circuits  around  the  hills  and  through 
the  vales,  yet  pursue  one  main  direction  from  one  mountain 
to  one  sea.  Now  all  the  truths  of  God  flow  into  the  atone- 
ment. They  are  understood  by  means  of  it,  bec'ause  their 
tendencies  are  toward  it ;  and  it  is  understood  by  means  of 
them,  because  it  receives  and  comprehends  them. 

'  Consider  more  fully  the  first  clause  of  this  sentence ;  all 
other  truths  are  understood  by  means  of  the  atonement.  It 
gives  to  them  all  a  unity  by  illustrating  them  all.  Other 
truths  are  not  so  much  independent  themes,  as  they  are 
branches  growing  up  or  sidewise  out  of  this  one  root,  and 
they  need  this  single  theme  in  order  that  their  relations  may 
be  rightly  understood.  What,  for  example,  can  we  know  in 
its  most  important  bearings,  unless  we  know  the  history  and 
office  of  our  Redeemer  ?  Begin  from  what  point  we  may  to 
examine  the  uses  of  things,  we  can  never  measure  their  full 
utility  until  we  view  them  from  the  Cross.  The  trees  bud 
and  blossom.  Why  ?  To  bear  fruit  for  the  sustenance  of 
the  human  body.  But  is  this  an  ultimate  object?  The 
nourishment  of  the  body  favors  the  growth  of  the  mind. 
But  is  the  human  mind  an  end  worthy  of  all  the  contrivances 
in  nature  ?  Does  the  sun,  with  all  its  retinue  of  stars,  pur- 
sue its  daily  course,  with  no  aim  ulterior  to  man's  welfare  ? 
Do  we  adopt  a  Ptolemaic  theory  in  morals,  that  man  is  the 
centre  of  the  system,  and  other  worlds  revolve  around  him  ? 
All  things  were  made  for  God,  as  the  Being  in  whom  they 
all  terminate.  Do  they  exist  for  elucidating  his  power? 
This  is  not  his  chief  attribute.     His  knowledge  ?     There  is  a 


66  THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE    ATONEMENT. 

nobler  perfection  than  omniscience.  His  love  ?  But  there 
is  one  virtue  imbedded  as  a  gem  in  his  love,  and  his  love  is 
but  a  shining  casket  for  this  pearl  of  infinite  price.  This 
pearl  is  grace.  This  is  the  central  ornament  of  the  charac- 
ter of  Jehovah.  But  there  is  no  grace  in  Jehovah  save  as  it 
beams  forth  in  Christ ;  not  in  Christ  as  a  mere  Divinity,  nor 
in  Christ  as  a  mere  spotless  humanity,  but  in  the  two  united, 
and  in  that  God-man  crucified.  All  things  were  made  hy 
him  and /or  him,  rising  from  the  cross  to  the  throne.  With- 
out reference  to  him  in  his  atoning  love,  has  nothing  been 
made  that  was  made  in  this  world.  The  star  in  the  East  led 
wise  men  dnce  to  the  manger  where  the  Redeemer  lay ;  and 
all  the  stars  of  heaven  lead  wise  men  noiv  to  him  who  has 
risen  above  the  stars,  and  whose  glory  illumines  them  all. 
He  is  termed  the  sun  of  righteousness  ;  and,  as  the  material 
sun  binds  all  the  planets  around  it  in  an  intelligible  order, 
so  does  Christ  shine  over,  and  under,  and  into,  and  through 
all  other  objects,  attract  them  all  to  himself,  marshal  them 
all  into  one  clear  and  grand  array,  showing  them  all  to  be 
his  works,  all  suggestive  of  our  duty,  our  sin,  our  need  of 
atonement,  our  dependence  on  the  one  God,  and  the  one 
Mediator  between  God  and  man. 

'  The  first  clause  of  my  sentence  was.  All  other  truths  are 
understood  by  means  of  the  atonement.  Consider  next  the 
second  clause :  The  atonement  is  understood  by  means  of 
other  truths.  It  crystallizes  them  around  itself,  and  reduces 
them  into  a  system,  not  only  because  it  explains  them,  but 
also  because  it  makes  them  explain  it.  It  is  not  too  large  a 
theme,  for  all  the  sciences  and  the  arts  bring  their  contribu- 
tions to  make  it  orderly  and  plain.  Our  text  is  a  simple 
one,  because  its  words  are  interpreted  by  a  thousand  facts 
shining  upon  it,  and  making  themselves  and  it  luminous  in 
their  radiations  around  and  over  it.  Listen  again  to  its 
suggestive  words : 

"  For  I  am  determined  not  to  know  anything  among  you 
save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified." 


THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT.  57 

'  Now,  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  plain  term,  "  Christ  ? " 
It  means  a  "  king."  But  how  can  we  appreciate  the  king, 
unless  we  learn  the  nature  of  the  beings  over  whom  he 
rules  ?  He  reigns  over  the  heavens  ;  therefore  we  investigate 
the  heavens.  The  whole  earth  is  full  of  his  glory  ;  therefore 
we  study  the  earth.  He  is  the  Lord  over  the  angels  ;  when 
we  reflect  on  them,  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  him  in  his  regal 
state.  He  is  the  King  of  the  Jews  and  the  Gentiles.  When 
we  meditate  on  men,  we  enjoy  a  glance  at  him  who  was  born 
for  this  end,  that  he  might  have  dominion  over  our  race. 
When  we  contemplate  the  material  worlds,  all  the  vastness 
and  the  grandeur  included  in  them  ;  the  sphere  of  mind,  all 
the  refinement  and  energy  involved  in  it,  we  are  overpowered 
by  the  reality,  surpassing  fable,  that  he  who  superintends  all 
the  movements  of  matter  and  first  spake  it  into  being,  and 
once  framed,  as  he  now  governs,  the  souls  of  his  creatures, 
he  is  the  King  who  atoned  for  us ;  and  the  more  we  know 
of  the  stars  in  their  courses,  and  of  the  spirit  in  its  mys- 
teries, so  much  the  deeper  is  our  awe  in  view  of  the  con- 
descending pity  which  moved  their  Creator  to  become  one 
with  a  lowly  creature  acquainted  with  grief  for  you  and  me. 
So  much  is  involved  in  the  word,  "  Christ." 

'  But  our  text  speaks  of  Jesus  Christ.  That  word,  "  Jesus ! " 
What  is  the  meaning  of  it  ?  It  means  a  "  deliverer,"  and  in 
the  view  of  some  interpreters  it  means  "  God,  the  deliverer." 
Deliverer  ?  From  what  ?  We  do  not  understand  the  power 
of  his  great  office,  unless  we  learn  the  nature  and  the  vile- 
ness  of  sin  ;  and  we  have  no  conception  how  mean,  how 
detestable  sin  is,  unless  we  know  the  needlessness  of  it,  the 
nobleness  of  the  will  which  degrades  itself  into  it,  the  excel- 
lence of  the  law  which  is  dishonored  by  it.  All  our  studies, 
then,  in  regard  to  the  nature  of  the  will,  the  unforced  volun- 
tariness of  depravity,  the  extent  of  it  through  our  race,  the 
depth  of  it,  the  purity  of  the  commands  aiming  to  prevent 
it,  the  attractions  of  virtue,  the  strangeness  of  their  not  pre- 
vailing over  the  temptations  of  vice  —  they  arc  not  mere 


68         THE  PROMINENCE  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

metaphysics ;  —  they  are  studies  concerning  the  truth  and 
the  grace  of  Immanuel,  who  is  God  with  us,  and  whose  name 
is  "  Deliverer,"  because  he  delivers  his  people  from  their 
sins ;  sins  involving  the  power  and  the  penalty  of  free,  wrong 
choice ;  a  penalty  including  the  everlasting  punishment  of 
the  soul ;  a  punishment  suggesting  the  nature  and  the  char- 
acter of  the  divine  law,  and  the  divine  Lawgiver,  in  their 
relation  to  the  conscience  and  all  the  sensibilities  of  the 
mind  ;  and  that  mind  as  undying  as  its  Maker.  All  these 
things  are  comprehended  in  the  word,  "  Jesus." 

'  But  our  text  speaks  of  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified : 
and  this  third  term,  "  crucified,"  adds  an  emphasis  to  the 
two  preceding  terms,  and  stirs  us  up  to  examine  our  own 
capabilities,  to  learn  the  skill  pervading  our  physical  organ- 
ism, so  exquisitely  qualified  for  pain  as  well  as  pleasure ;  the 
wisdom  apparent  in  our  mental  structure,  so  keenly  sensitive 
to  all  that  can  annoy  as  well  as  gratify ;  and  thus  we  catch 
a  glimpse  of  the  truth,  that  he  who  combines  all  of  our  dig- 
nity with  none  of  our  guilt,  and  with  all  of  the  divine  glory, 
and  who  thus  develops  all  that  is  fit  to  be  explained  in  man, 
and  all  that  can  be  explained  in  God,  —  he  it  is  who  chose  to 
hang  and  linger,  with  aching  nerve  and  bleeding  heart,  upon 
the  cross  for  you  and  me.  This  cross  makes  out  an  atone- 
ment of  the  sciences  and  the  arts,  and  brings  tJmn  also,  as 
well  as  devout  men,  at  one  with  God  ;  all  of  them  tributary 
to  the  doctrine  that  we  are  bought  with  a  price,  that  we  are 
redeemed,  not  with  silver  and  gold,  but  with  the  precious 
blood  of  a  man,  who  was  God  manifest  in  the  flesh.  Too 
large  a  theme  is  the  atonement  ?  But  it  breaks  down  the 
middle  wall  of  partition  that  has  kept  apart  the  different 
studies  of  men,  and  it  brings  them  together  as  illustrations 
of  the  truth,  which  in  their  light  becomes  as  simple  as  it  is 
great. 

'  The  very  objection,  then,  that  the  redemptive  work  is  too 
extensive  for  our  familiar  converse,  has  suggested  the  second 
reason  why  it  should  be  the  main  thing  for  us  to  think  upon. 


THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT.  59 

and  speak  upon,  and  act  upon :  It  systematizes  all  other 
themes,  and  gains  from  them  a  unity  which  becomes  the 
plainer  because  it  is  set  off  by  a  luminous  variety ;  and  for 
this  cause,'  continues  the  apostle,  '  I  intend  to  know  nothing 
with  supreme  love,  except  this  centralizing  doctrine  which 
combines  all  other  truths  into  a  constellation  of  glories.' 

There  is  still  a  third  inquiry  which  we  might  present  to 
the  author  of  our  text,  could  we  meet  him  in  a  personal 
colloquy : 

"  Your  words  all  converge  toward  one  point ;  will  they 
not  then  become  monotonous,  and  inapposite  to  the  varying 
wants  of  various,  or  even  the  same  individuals  ?" 

'  A  monotonous  theme  ! ' —  this  is  the  reply :  '  "What  can 
be  more  diversified  than  the  character  and  work  of  him  who 
is  at  one  time  designated  as  the  omniscient  God,  and  at 
another  time  as  a  mechanic ;  at  one  time  as  a  judge,  and  at 
another  time  as  an  intercessor  ;  now  a  lion,  and  then  a  lamb  ; 
here  a  vine,  a  tree,  there  a  way,  a  door ;  again  a  stone,  a 
rock,  still  again  a  star,  a  sun ;  here  without  sin,  and  there 
he  was  made  sin  for  us. 

'  Monotonous  is  this  theme  ?  Then  it  is  sadly  wronged, 
and  the  mind  of  man  is  sadly  harmed ;  for  this  mind  shoots 
out  its  tendrils  to  grasp  all  the  branches  of  the  tree  of  life, 
and  the  tree  in  its  healthy  growth  has  branches  to  which 
every  sensibility  of  the  human  mind  may  cling.  The  judg- 
ment is  addressed  by  the  atonement,  concerning  the  nature 
of  law,  of  distributive  justice,  the  mode  of  expressing  this 
justice  either  by  punishing  the  guilty  or  by  inflicting  pain  as 
a  substitute  for  punishment,  the  influence  of  this  substitution 
on  the  transgressor,  on  the  surety,  on  the  created  universe, 
on  God  himself.  There  is  more  of  profound  and  even  ab- 
struse pliilosophy  involved  in  the  specific  doctrine  of  the 
atonement,  than  in  any  other  branch  of  knowledge ;  and 
there  has  been  or  will  be  more  of  discussion  upon  it,  tlian 
upon  all  other  branches  of  knowledge  ;  for  sacred  science  is 


60  THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT. 

the  most  fruitful  of  all  sciences  in  logical  deduction,  and  this 
specific  part  of  the  science  is  the  richest  of  all  its  parts. 

'  Not  only  the  judgment,  but  also  the  imagination  is  ad- 
dressed by  the  atonement ;  as  this  is  the  comprehensive  event 
pointing  to  those  three  several  hours,  the  like  to  which  have 
never  been  heard  of,  no,  nor  ever  shall  be :  that  first  hour, 
the  hour  of  humiliating  change,  when  the  Son  of  God,  who 
had  been  from  the  beginning  with  God,  gathering  in  the 
praises  of  angels  and  enjoying  the  honors  of  his  universal 
reign,  on  a  sudden  left  the  bosom  of  his  Father,  and  choirs 
of  angels  followed  far  off  from  his  train,  and  heralded  to  the 
shepherds  his  arrival  on.  earth  ;  —  and  that  second  hour,  the 
hour  of  gloom,  when  the  only-begotten  Son,  smitten  of  the 
Father,  cried  out  with  a  loud  voice  at  the  heaviness  of  the 
blow,  and  the  earth  was  astonished  more  than  when  the 
prophet  asked  of  old :  Was  the  Lord  displeased  against 
the  rivers  ?  Was  thine  anger  against  the  rivers  ?  Was  thy 
wrath  against  the  sea  ?  —  and  that  third  hour,  the  hour  of 
triumph,  when  his  troops  of  heralds  shouted  at  his  arrival : 
Lift  up  your  heads,  0  ye  gates  ;  and  be  ye  lift  up,  ye  ever- 
lasting doors,  and  the  King  of  glory  shall  come  in,  scarred 
in  his  hands  and  feet  and  side,  but  over  all  his  foes  victo- 
rious, and  marching  from  his  cross  to  his  throne,  —  and  let 
all  the  angels  of  God  now  worship  him !  What  was  the 
appearance  of  heaven ;  how  did  its  hosts  look  during  that 
first  hour,  when  the  very  light  of  heaven  moved  out  of  its 
place,  and  descended  gracefully  like  a  star  to  Bethlehem  ? 
And  what  was  the  solemnity  in  heaven,  what  was  the  deed 
done  there,  during  that  second  hour,  when  the  first  Person 
withdrew  himself  from  the  second  Person,  and  the  angels 
veiled  their  faces  at  the  unutterable  solitude  of  him  who  trod 
the  wine-press  alone  ?  And  what  was  the  festival  in  the 
realm  of  joy  during  that  third  hour,  when  its  monarch  came 
riding  prosperously  home,  with  his  sword  upon  his  thigh, 
and  all  the  hearts  of  tlie  redeemed  threw  open  their  doors 
for  liis  glad  entrance  —  a  conqueror,   and  more  than  con- 


THE    PROMINENCE    OF    THE    ATONEMENT.  61 

queror,  welcome,  welcome  to  his  everlasting  rest !  At  these 
three  scenes,  in  a  life  all  full  of  transporting  eras,  the  imagi- 
nation falters,  and  lingers  around  them,  and  loses  itself  in  a 
strange  delight,  and  whether  it  be  in  the  body  or  out  of  the 
body,  it  cannot  tell.  And  will  you  say  that  scenes  like  these 
are  monotonous  ? ' 

"  Not  so  for  the  poet  or  the  philosopher,"  we  might  reply, 
'•  but  are  they  variously  appropriate  for  the  common  mind  ?" 
'  The  common  mind  ! '  —  this  is  the  rejoinder.    '  The  com- 
mon mind  is  reached  first  of  all  by  the  atonement.     Those 
children  who  cried  "  hosanna"  in  the  temple,  are  yet  in  our 
eye  as  pictures  of  thousands  of  children,  who  feel  and  love 
the  divine  attributes  as  they  are  made  plain  and  well-nigh 
tangible  in  Jesus.     Simeon  and  Anna  yet  stand  in  that  same 
temple  as  statues  representing  hundreds  of  aged  saints,  who 
love  to  read  the  history  of  their  Redeemer  when  all  other 
letters  become  illegible,  and  who  can  hear  his  voice  when  all 
other  voices  become  inaudible,  and  who  grow  young  again 
as  his  fresh   doctrine   rejuvenates   their   heart.      Zaccheus 
climbing  the  sycamore  still  remains  in  our  vision  as  a  symbol 
of  many  a  rich  extortioner,  who  cannot  rest  until  he  has 
entertained  his  Lord,  and  consecrated  the  half  of  his  goods 
to  the  poor,  who  are  to  be  always  with  him,  reminding  him 
of  their  Redeemer.     That  widow  weeping  as  she  measures 
her  slow  steps  out  of  the  city,  and  smiling  through  her  tears 
as  she  receives  her  son  healthy  from  the  bier  on  which  he 
was  borne  toward  the  needlessly  opened  tomb,  yet  continues 
in  our  view  as  a  representative  of  many  a  mourner  relieved 
by  his  timely  charities.     Those  minsti'els  who  laughed  him 
to  scorn  are  images  of  millions  who  despise  him,  and  then 
he  blesses  them,  and  then  with  glad  voice  they  spread  the 
fame  of  him  round  about ;  the  fame  of  him  whose  mission 
it  is  to  render  good  for  evil,  and  to  be  the  friend  of  his  foes. 
If  I  desire  to  be  soothed,  I  find  nowhere  such  gentleness  as 
at  his  last  supper.     If  I  aim  to  be  stimulated,  I  find  nothing 
like  his  crown  of  thorns  stirring  me  to  duty.     If  I  need  to 


62  THE    PROMINENCE   OF   THE   ATONEMENT. 

be  joyous,  whither  shall  I  go  but  to  him,  all  whose  garments 
smell  of  myrrh,  and  aloes,  and  cassia  out  of  the  ivory 
palaces,  whereby  they  have  made  him  glad  ? 

'  The  very  intimation  that  the  atonement  addresses  only 
one  sensibility,  and  is  appropriate  to  only  one  class  of 
men,  in  one  mood  of  mind,  has  now  suggested  the  third 
reason  why  this  doctrine  should  be  the  main  spring  of  our 
inward  and  outward  enterprise :  It  is  so  flexile  and  multi- 
form, that  it  must  be  apposite  to  every  man  in  every  change 
of  character  or  state  ;  and  therefore,'  continues  the  apostle, 
'^  I  desire  to  make  nothing  prominent  in  my  inward  thought 
or  outward  life,  except  this  ever-fitting  truth  of  Jesus  Christ 
and  him  crucified  ! ' 

Having  now  stated  three  reasons  why  it  is  important  to 
make  the  redemptive  scheme  our  main  object  of  interest,  let 
us  close  this  discourse  with  three  brief  inquiries  into  the 
method  of  giving  the  desired  prominence  to  this  wonderful 
scheme. 

And,  first,  were  we  conversing  face  to  face  with  the  author 
of  our  text,  when  he  had  become  Paul  the  aged  and  the 
counsellor,  we  might  ask  him : 

"  In  what  method  shall  we  resist  our  natural  disinclination 
to  make  the  grace  of  Christ  so  conspicuous  ?  Is  there  not 
such  a  disinclination  ?  Will  not  your  hearers,  will  not  you 
yourself,  much  more  shall  not  we  who  have  never  been 
caught  up  to  the  third  heaven,  feel  tempted  to  elevate  self 
above  the  redemptive  mercy  ? " 

'  I  fear  it ; ' —  this  is  the  reply,  — '  I  fear  it  for  myself. 
Many  secret  misgivings  have  disturbed  me.  I  know  the 
need  of  watchfulness.  But  I  have  a  fixed  resolve.  If  any 
man  be  tempted  to  find  some  less  humbling  theme,  I  more : 
circumcised  the  eighth  day,  of  the  stock  of  Israel,  of  the 
tribe  of  Benjamin,  an  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews,  as  touching 
the  law  a  Pharisee  (after  the  most  straitest  sect  I  lived  a 


THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE    ATONEMENT.  G3 

Pharisee),  as  touching  the  righteousness  of  the  law  blameless. 
Yet  I  am  determined  to  count  all  these  things  as  loss,  that  I 
may  win  Christ. 

'  You  inquire  about  my  hearers.  They  will  prefer  to 
gratify  their  self-esteem,  rather  than  receive  the  excellency 
of  the  knowledge  of  Jesus.  I  have  tried  them  again  and 
again.  I  knew  the  pride  of  Corinth  when  I  avowed  to  her 
citizens :  I  am  determined  to  know  nothing  among  you  save 
Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified.  I  knew  then  that  Corinth 
was  called  The  Wealthy.  For  more  than  eighteen  months 
I  dwelt  within  her  proud  walls.  I  met  her  glad  citizens  on 
the  Acrocorinthus,  enjoying  their  magnificent  scenery.  I 
saw  them  going  down  the  marble  steps  of  their  fountain 
Peirene,  where  their  famed  Pegasus,  as  they  believed,  was 
caught  by  Bellerophon.  I  visited  their  Stadium,  and  I  drew 
one  of  my  illustrations  from  it.  I  looked  in  upon  their 
Theatre,  and  was  moved  by  it  to  exclaim :  We  are  become  a 
Theatre  to  the  world,  to  angels,  to  men.  I  beheld  the  gay 
throngs  at  the  Corinthian  Amphitheatre,  that  edifice  so  mas- 
sive, that  the  remains  of  it,  as  also  of  their  Stadium  and 
their  Theatre,  are  yet  to  be  seen,  and  long  after  your  dying 
day  will  be  visited  and  admired  by  your  own  countrymen. 
It  is  true,  I  did  feel  often  that  those  votaries  of  pleasure 
would  look  upon  my  preaching  of  the  cross  as  foolishness  in 
comparison  with  their  rounds  of  festivity.  But  none  of 
these  things  moved  me.  I  was  not  ashamed  of  the  Gospel 
of  Christ.  /  had  a  fixed  plan.  I  wrote  from  Corinth  to  the 
very  capital  of  the  world :  So  much  as  in  me  is,  I  am  ready 
to  preach  the  Gospel  to  you  who  are  at  Rome  also.  Wher- 
ever I  went,  I  knew  that  bonds  and  imprisonment  awaited 
me  for  my  chief  theme  of  discourse,  yet  I  was  determined  to 
confer  not  with  flesh  and  blood ;  for  I  said :  A  necessity  is 
upon  me ;  yea,  woe  is  me  if  I  preach  not  the  Gospel  of 
Clirist  even  in  the  palaces  of  Corinth  and  of  Rome.  And  if 
my  steadfast  resolution  lielped  me  to  resist  my  own  and  my 
hearers'  pride  in  the  brilliant  cities  of  the  East,  then  your  set 


64  THE    PROMINENCE    OP   THE    ATONEMENT. 

resolve  will  nerve  you  anywhere,  everywhere,  to  the  same 
humbling  service. 

'  Here,  then,  is  the  first  method  in  which  you  may  keep  up 
the  habit  of  making  Jesus  and  him  crucified  the  soul  of  all 
your  activity :  Bring  to  your  help  the  force  of  a  resolute 
determination.  There  is  a  tendency  in  this  resolute  spirit  to 
divert  your  thoughts  from  other  themes,  to  turn  the  current 
of  your  sensibilities  into  the  right  channel,  to  invigorate 
your  choice,  to  exert  a  direct  and  reflex  influence  in  coiic 
firming  the  whole  soul  in  Jesus.  God  is  in  that  determina- 
tion. He  inspires  it.  He  invigorates  it.  He  works  with  it 
and  by  it.  There  is  a  power  in  it,  but  the  power  is  not 
yours  ;  it  is  the  power  of  God.  God  is  in  every  holy  resolve 
of  man.' 

In  our  interview  with  the  apostle  we  should  address  to  him 
a  second  inquiry : 

"  In  what  method  can  we  avoid  both  the  fact  and  the 
appearance  of  being  slavishly  coerced  into  the  habit  of  con- 
versing on  Christ  and  on  Christ  alone  ?  You  speak  of  taking 
your  stand,  adhering  to  your  decision  ;  but  this  dry,  stiff 
resolve,  —  comes  any  genial  spirit  from  it  ?  Will  you  not  be 
a  slave  to  your  unswerving  purpose  ?  Your  inflexible  rule, 
—  will  it  not  be  a  hard  one,  wearisome  to  yourself,  disagree- 
able to  others  ?  You  hold  up  a  weighty  theme  by  a  dead 
lift." 

'I  am  determined,' — this  is  the  reply,  —  'and  it  is  not 
only  a  strong,  but  it  is  a  loving  resolve.  For  the  love  of 
Christ  constraineth  me ;  whom  having  not  seen  in  the  flesh  I 
love ;  in  whom,  though  now  I  see  him  not,  yet  believing,  I 
rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.  It  is  not  a 
business-like  resolution.  It  is  not  a  diplomatic  purpose.  It 
is  not  a  meclianical  force.  It  is  an  affectionate  decision.  It 
is  a  joyous  rule.  It  is  the  effluence  of  a  supreme  attachment 
to  the  Redeemer. 

'  And  this  is  the  second  method  in  which  3'ou  may  retain 


THE    PROMINENCE    OF    TUi:    ATONEMENT.  65 

Jesus  Christ  as  the  jewel  of  your  speech  and  life :  Cherish  a 
loving  purpose  to  do  so.  A  man  has  strength  to  accomplish 
what  with  a  full  soul  he  longs  to  accomplish.  Your  Chris- 
tian toil  will  be  irksome  to  you,  if  it  be  not  your  cordial 
preference  ;  but  if  your  undeviating  resolve  spring  out  of  a 
hearty  choice  of  your  Saviour,  then  will  it  be  ever  refreshed 
and  enlivened  by  your  outflowing,  genial  preference ;  then 
will  your  pious  work  be  the  repose  of  your  soul.  There  is  a 
power  in  your  love  to  your  work.  It  is  a  power  to  make 
your  labor  easy  for  yourself  and  attractive  to  others.  This 
is  not  your  power ;  it  is  the  power  of  God.  He  enkindles 
the  love  within  you.  He  enlivens  it.  He  gives  it  warmth. 
He  makes  it  instinct  with  energy.  God  is  in  all  the  holy  joy 
of  man. 

In  our  conference  with  the  author  of  our  text  we  might 
suggest  to  him  our  third  and  last  inquiry : 

"  In  what  method  can  we  feel  sure  of  persevering  in  this 
habitual  exaltation  of  Christ?  You  speak  of  your  stern 
purpose,  but  can  you  depend  upon  the  continuance  of  it  ? 
You  speak  of  your  cordial  as  well  as  set  resolve.  But  who 
are  you  ?  (forgive  our  pertinacious  query.)  Jesus  we  know. 
But  his  disciples,  his  chief  apostles  —  is  not  every  one  of 
them  a  reed  shaken  with  the  wind,  tossed  hither  and  thither, 
unstable  as  a  wave  upon  the  sea  ? " 

'  I  know  it  is  so,' — this  is  the  reply.  '  Often  am  I  afraid 
lest,  having  preached  the  Gospel  to  others,  I  should  be  a 
castaway.  And  after  all  I  am  persuaded  that  nothing, 
height,  depth,  life,  death,  nothing  shall  be  able  to  separate 
me  from  the  love  of  Christ ;  for  I  put  my  confidence  in  him, 
and  while  my  purpose  is  inflexible  and  affectionate,  it  is  also 
inwrought  with  trust  in  the  atonement  and  the  intercession. 
I  do  pursue  my  Christian  life  in  weakness  and  in  fear  and  in 
much  trembling.  For  all  the  piety  of  the  best  of  men  is  in 
itself  as  grass,  and  the  goodliness  thereof  as  the  flower  of 
the  field.     Therefore  serve  I  the  Lord  with  all  humility  of 


66  THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT. 

mind,  and  with  many  tears  and  temptations.  Yet  I  am 
determined  with  a  confiding  love.  I  am  troubled  on  every 
side  ;  my  flesh  has  no  rest ;  without  are  fightings,  within  are 
fears  ;  in  presence  I  am  base  among  you  ;  my  bodily  presence 
is  weak  and  my  speech  contemptible ;  and  if  I  must  needs 
glory,  I  will  glory  in  the  things  which  concern  my  infirmi- 
ties. Still,  after  all,  /  am  determined,  my  right  hand  being 
enfolded  in  the  hand  of  my  Redeemer.  I  know  whom  I 
have  believed,  and  am  persuaded  that  he  is  able  to  keep  that 
which  I  have  committed  unto  him  against  that  day.  For  my 
conversation  is  in  heaven,  from  whence  I  am  to  look  for  the 
Saviour,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  shall  change  our  vile 
body  that  it,  may  be  fashioned  like  unto  his  glorious  body, 
according  to  the  mighty  working  whereby  he  is  able  to  sub- 
due all  things  unto  himself.  I  say  the  truth  in  Christ ;  I 
lie  not ;  I  am  the  least  of  the  apostles,  that  am  not  meet  to 
be  called  an  apostle  because  I  injured  the  church  of  God ;  I 
am  less  than  the  least  of  all  saints.  Still  I  am  determined  ; 
for  by  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am ;  and  this  grace 
which  was  bestowed  upon  me  was  not  in  vain,  but  I  labored 
more  abundantly  than  they  all ;  yet  not  I,  but  the  grace 
of  God  which  was  with  me  ;  for  I  can  do  all  things  through 
Christ  which  strengtheneth  me,  and  therefore  I  am  determined. 
'  Borne  onward,  therefore,  by  your  fixed  plan,  and  no 
one  can  succeed  in  anything  without  a  plan,  yet  you  must 
never  rely  ultimately  upon  your  determined  spirit.  Allured 
further  and  further  onward  by  your  delight  in  your  plan, 
and  no  one  can  work  as  a  master  in  anything  without  enthu- 
siasm in  his  prescribed  course,  still  you  must  not  place  your 
final  dependence  upon  your  affectionate  spirit ;  for  if  you 
take,  for  your  last  prop,  either  the  sternness  or  tlie  cheerful- 
ness of  your  own  determination,  then  you  will  know  your 
determination,  and  you  are  not  to  know  anything  save  Josus 
Christ  and  him  crucified.  Here,  then,  is  the  third  method 
in  wliich  you  may  give  the  fitting  prominence  to  the  l)est  of 
themes :  You  must  rest  for  your  chief  and  final  support  on 


THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT.  67 

him  and  only  on  him,  from  whom  all  wise  plans  start,  by 
whom  they  all  hold  out,  to  whom  they  all  tend,  who  is  all 
and  in  all,  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified.' 

My  Christian  brethren,  you  are  all  apostles.  Every  man, 
every  woman,  every  child,  the  richest  and  the  poorest,  the 
most  learned  and  the  most  ignorant  of  you,  have  been  sent 
by  your  Lord  to  serve  not  yourselves  but  Him,  and  you  have 
in  essence  the  same  responsibility  resting  on  you  as  weighed 
on  the  apostle  who  wrote  our  text.  He,  too,  was  burdened 
by  the  same  kind  of  temptations  and  fears  which  oppress 
your  spirit.  But  he  was  held  up  from  failing  in  his  work  by 
a  three-fold  cord ;  and  that  was  his  resolute  determination, 
as  loving  as  it  was  resolute,  and  as  trustful  as  it  was  loving, 
to  know  nothing  save  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified.  The 
last  that  you  hear  of  him  as  an  impenitent  man  is  in  the 
words :  "  And  Saul,  yet  breathing  out  threatening  and 
slaughter  against  the  disciples  of  the  Lord."  It  was  Christ 
whom  the  proud  Jew  last  opposed.  The  first  that  you  hear 
of  him  as  a  convicted  man  is  in  the  words :  "  Who  art  thou. 
Lord?"  It  was  Christ  whom  the  inquiring  Jew  first  studied. 
And  the  first  you  hear  of  him  as  penitent  man  is :  "  Lord, 
what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  ?  "  It  was  Christ  to  whom  the 
humble  disciple  first  surrendered  his  will.  And  the  first  that 
you  hear  of  him  as  a  Christian  minister  is :  "  And  straight- 
way he  preached  Christ  in  the  synagogues,  that  he  is  the  Son 
of  God."  And  the  last  that  you  hear  of  him  as  a  Christian 
hero  is :  "I  have  fought  the  good  fight,  I  have  finislicd  my 
course.  I  have  kept  the  faith ;  henceforth  there  is  laid  up 
for  me  a  crown  of  righteousness."  And  the  secret  of  this 
victorious  career  is  in  words  like  those  of  our  text :  '  I 
adhered  to  my  plan  (when  among  the  fickle  Corinthians) ; 
I  was  decided  (when  among  the  vacillating  Galatians)  ;  to 
know  nothing  (when  among  the  learned  at  Athens  and  them 
of  Caesar's  household  at  Rome) ;  save  Jesus  Christ  (when  I 
was  among  my  own  kinsmen,  who  scorned  him),  and  him 


68  THE    PROMINENCE    OF   THE   ATONEMENT. 

crucified  (when  I  was  among  the  pupils  of  Gamaliel,  all  of 
whom  despised  my  chosen  theme) ;  still  I  was  determined  to 
cling  to  that  theme  among  the  Greeks  and  the  barbarians, 
before  Onesimus  the  slave  and  Philemon  the  proud  master ; 
for  I  loved  my  theme,  and,  suffering  according  to  the  will  of 
God,  I  committed  the  keeping  of  my  soul  to  him  in  well- 
doing as  unto  a  faithful  Creator.' 

And  herein  is  it  to  be  your  plan,  my  brethren,  and  your 
joy,  not  to  make  this  sanctuary  the  resort  of  wealth  and  of 
fashion,  but  rather  of  humble  suppliants,  who  by  their 
prayers  may  divert  all  the  wealth  and  fashion  of  the  world 
into  the  service  of  your  Lord ;  not  to  make  this  temple  the 
resting-place  of  hearers  who  shall  idly  listen  to  the  words  of 
an  orator,  but  a  temple  of  earnest  co-workers  with  Christ, 
thinking  of  him,  speaking  of  him,  loving  him  first  and  last 
and  midst  and  without  end.  As  you  come  to  this  house  of 
God  on  the  Sabbath,  as  you  go  from  it,  as  your  week-day 
recollections  gather  around  it,  may  you  renew  and  confirm 
your  plan  to  know  your  Redeemer,  and  not  only  to  know 

him,  but who  is  sufficient  for  these  things? — not  to 

know  anything  save  your  Redeemer  ;  and  not  only  to  shut 
yourselves  up  to  the  supreme  love  of  nothing  except  Christ, 

but  also, his  grace  will   be   sufficient  for  you, to 

worship  and  serve  Christ  in  the  central  relation  of  him  cru- 
cified. Knowing  him  alone,  he  will  sustain  you  as  fully  as 
if  he  knew  you  alone.  He  will  come  to  you  in  this  temple 
as  frequently  as  if  he  had  no  other  servants  to  befriend.  He 
will  listen  to  your  prayers  as  intently  as  if  no  supplications 
came  up  to  him  from  other  altars,  and  he  will  intercede  for 
you  as  entirely  as  if  he  interceded  in  behalf  of  no  one  else ; 
for  remember,  that  when  he  hung  upon  the  cross,  he  thought 
of  you,  and  died  for  you,  just  as  fully  as  if  he  had  been 
determined  to  think  of  no  one,  and  to  die  for  no  one,  save 
you,  whom  he  now  calls  to  the  solemn  service  of  consecrating 
your  own  souls,  and  your  "  holy  and  beautiful  house"  to  the 
glory  of  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  crucified. 


III. 

THE  REVELATION  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORKS/ 


PSALM    XIX.    1—4. 


THE  HEAVENS  DECLARE  THE  QLORT  OP  GOD;  AND  THE  FIRMAMENT  BHEWETH  HI8 
HANDY  WORK  DAY  UNTO  DAT  UTTKRETH  SPEECH,  AND  NIGHT  UNTO  NIGHT 
6HEWETH  KNOWLEDGE.  THERE  18  NO  SPEECH  NOR  LANGUAGE,  WHERE  THEIR 
VOICE  IS  NOT  HEARD.  THEIR  LINE  IS  GONE  OUT  THROUGH  ALL  THE  EARTH, 
AND    THEIR    WORDS    TO    THE    END    OP    THE    WORLD. 

When  we  come  into  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  especially 
when  we  come  to  set  apart  one  of  his  ambassadors,  we  love, 
as  it  is  often  wise,  to  concentrate  onr  thoughts  upon  the  liv- 
ing preacher,  as  the  man  who  declares  the  whole  counsel  of 
God.     He  does  declare  it ;  but  not  he  alone. 

And  the  first  train  of  reflection  started  by  our  text  is,  that 
all  the  divine  works  express  the  divine  character.  They  are  all 
preachers  for  God.  As  the  sun  and  the  stars  make  our  earth 
visible,  and  bring  into  clear  view  its  instructions  concerning 
its  Maker ;  as  the  oriental  skies  are  brilliant  and  suggestive 
in  a  peculiar  degree,  they  are  naturally  singled  out  as 
luminous  in  illustrating  the  divine  excellence.  Long  after 
Niebuhr  had  ended  his  eastern  travels,  when  he  had  become 
blind  and  debilitated  by  old  age,  he  beguiled  his  weary  hours 
"  in  recalling  the  aspect  of  tlie  oriental  heavens.  As  he  lay 
in  his  bed,  the  glittering  splendor  of  the  nocturnal  Asiatic 
sky,  on  which  he  had  so  often  gazed,  or  its  lofty  vault  and 

1  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Installation  of  tlic  Rev.  Jacob  M.  Manning,  as 
Associate  Pastor  of  the  Old  South  Church  in  Boston,  Mass.,  March  11,  1857. 


70  THE   REVELATION    OP   GOD   IN    HIS   WORKS. 

azure  by  day,  imaged  themselves  to  his  mind  in  the  hour  of 
stillness,  and  ministered  to  him  his  sweetest  enjoyment." 
On  the  roof  of  his  palace  David  sat  in  the  early  dawn,  and 
as  he  mused  he  was  instructed  by  the  stillness  of  the  heavenly 
bodies.  Their  very  silence  was  to  him  a  sign  of  thought  — 
even  we  speak  of  the  music  of  the  spheres  — '  There  is  no 
audible  speech,'  he  exclaimed,  '  no  articulate  language  of 
the  moon  and  the  planets ;  their  voice  is  not  heard  by  the 
physical  ear  ;  still,  in  their  own  way,  they  do  preach  concern- 
ing the  divine  excellence  as  fully  as  if  they  proclaimed  it  in 
my  beloved  Hebrew  tongue.  Their  spiritual  words  have 
gone  out  so  far  that  every  man  hears  them  with  the  spiritual 
organ,  and  they  are  a  universal  language.  One  day  pours 
forth  speech  to  the  day  succeeding ;  every  night  rehearses 
lessons  to  the  night  which  comes  after  it ;  the  heavens  de- 
clare the  glory  of  God,  and  the  firmament  officiates  as  a 
demonstrator  of  the  work  of  his  hands.'  Not  the  heavens 
alone,  but  the  whole  earth  is  also  full  of  its  Maker's  glory. 
He  said,  "  Let  the  earth  bring  forth  its  plants."  And  it  did 
so.  He  said  this  in  williyig  it.  His  act  of  choosing  is  virtually 
his  act  of  sjjeaking;  and  as  a  printed  word  is  a  permanent 
memorial  of  the  speaker's  thought,  so  the  plants  yielding 
seed  are  perennial  mementos  of  their  Author's  mind.  And 
God  said,  "  Let  the  earth  bring  forth  its  living  creatures." 
It  was  so  ;  and  these  living  creatures  are  the  published  words 
of  him  who  spake  and  it  was  done.  There  are  forces  in 
matter  and  in  mind.  These  forces  are  preserved,  as  they 
were  originated,  by  the  positive  act  of  God.  This  act  is  his 
speech.  He  put  forth  a  volition  respecting  the  waters  ;  thus 
"  he  gave  to  the  sea  his  decree";  his  formative  energy  was  a 
phrase  which  the  Bible  translates  into  our  words  :  "  Hitherto 
shalt  thou  come,  and  no  further."  He  willed  ;  and  herein 
"  he  commanded,  and  it  stood  fast."  His  mandates  to  ma- 
terial and  mental  substance  are  what  we  term  the  laws  of 
nature.  These  laws  are  his  imperative  declarations.  These 
laws  are  the  words  filling  up  what  we  style  the  volume  of 


THE   REVELATION    OF   GOD    IN    HIS    WORKS.  71 

nature.  They  are  imprinted  on  all  the  animal  and  the 
vegetable  tribes.  The  heavens  and  the  earth  are  but  the 
leaves  of  one  book  open  to  all  men.  '  For,'  saith  an  apostle, 
'  the  invisible  things  of  God,  from  the  creation  of  the  world, 
being  understood  by  the  things  that  are  made,  are  clearly 
seen  ;  even  his  eternal  power  and  Godhead  are  legibly  writ- 
ten out ;  so  that  the  heathen,  if  they  fail  to  perceive  all  that 
is  needful  for  their  safety,  are  without  excuse.' 

Our  first  train  of  reflection  has  been,  that  all  of  God's 
works  express  his  excellence.  In  our  second  series  of  remark, 
let  us  consider  the  metJiods  in  wJdch  the  divine  character  is 
revealed  hy  the  divine  operations. 

One  of  these  methods  is  the  use  of  signs  which  are  fitted 
in  their  very  nature  to  suggest  the  truth  pertaining  to  God. 
There  is  a  natural  language  for  expressing  spiritual  ideas. 
The  proverb  is,  that  actions  speak  louder  than  words.  The 
tear  makes  known  what  the  tongue  conceals.  The  sigh,  the 
groan,  the  blush,  the  drooping  head,  expose  the  secrets  which 
no  words  can  tell.  Now,  if  an  elevated  gesture  of  man  have 
a  fitness  to  express  a  lofty  thought,  much  more  has  the  ex- 
panse of  the  firmament,  or  some  mountain  of  the  Lord,  a 
fitness  to  suggest  an  idea  of  his  exaltation.  If  the  sparkling 
eye,  the  opened,  extended  lip  of  man  have  a  tendency  to 
reveal  the  joy  of  the  spirit  that  animates  his  countenance, 
much  more  does  a  shining  landscape  express  the  benevolence 
and  the  blessedness  of  the  Spirit  which  enlivens  the  hills  and 
dales.  The  works  of  God  are  adapted  to  an  end ;  this  adapt- 
edness  is  an  effect,  and  therefore  a  sign  of  his  skill.  His 
works  arc  fitted  to  a  good  end ;  this  fitness  is  a  result,  and 
thus  an  exponent  of  his  wisdom.  His  works  are  so  adjusted 
as  to  awaken  the  hope  of  a  reward  for  well-doing,  or  the  fear 
of  a  penalty  for  ill-doing ;  this  adjustment  is  an  effect,  and 
thus  a  declaration  of  his  purpose  to  remunerate  the  good  and 
to  punish  the  bad.  If  any  object  be  suited  in  its  structure 
to  /'//jpress  the  mind  of  man,  this  very  suitableness  is  an 


72  THE    REVELATION    0¥    GOD    IN    HIS    WORKS. 

earpression  of  the  mind  of  God.  Whoever  attends  to  the 
teaching  of  nature,  listens  to  the  conversation  of  Him  who 
speaks  through  all  nature.  The  laws  of  health  are  prescrip- 
tions from  the  great  Physician.  The  influences  of  Geology 
and  Astronomy  are  lessons  from  our  First  Teacher.  We 
"  do  err,  not  knowing  the  Scriptures,"  if  we  fail  to  regard 
natural  scenery  as  intended  to  reveal  the  mind  of  Him  who 
smiles  or  frowns  in  it. 

Religious  poets  have  an  instinct  for  religious  philosophy, 
and  some  of  them  have  been  inspired  to  regard  the  signifi- 
cance of  natural  phenomena  as  homogeneous  with  natural 
speech  ;  and  one  of  them  exclaims  :  "  Sing,  0  ye  heavens  ;  — 
shout,  ye  lower  parts  of  the  earth  ;  break  forth  into  singing, 
ye  mountains,  0  forest,  and  every  tree  therein."  "  For  ye" 
—  my  people — "  shall  go  out  with  joy,  and  be  led  forth  with 
peace  ;  the  mountains  and  the  hills  shall  break  forth  before 
you  into  suiging,  and  all  the  trees  of  the  field  shall  clap  their 
hands."  When  the  waves  of  the  sea  were  driven  back  by 
the  violence  of  the  wind,  the  poet,  reasoning  as  a  philosopher 
without  his  syllogisms,  looked  upon  the  phenomenon  as  an 
exponent  of  the  power  and  the  will  of  God  to  overcome  all 
resistance,  and  therefore  he  felt  inspired  to  say  :  "  The  waters 
saw  thee,  0  God,  the  waters  saw  thee  ;  they  were  afraid :  the 
depths  also  were  troubled."  Their  movements  were  expres- 
sive of  that  which  causes  trouble.  When  the  Lord  came 
down  upon  Sinai,  "  there  were  thunders,  and  lightnings,  and 
a  thick  cloud  upon  the  mount."  That  cloud  signified  the 
hiding  of  the  power  of  the  Most  High.  That  thunder  was 
his  voice.  It  expressed  all  the  truths  which,  had  they  vocal 
organs,  they  would  have  articulated.  And  "  all  the  people 
that  was  in  the  camp  trembled,"  "  and  the  whole  mount 
quaked  greatly."  Now  the  trembling  of  the  people,  and  the 
quaking  of  the  mountain,  denoted,  each  in  a  different  way, 
the  same  idea ;  and  that  idea  is,  the  fearfulness  of  the  divine 
power,  when  arrayed  against  the  wicked.  That  idea  was 
caught  by  the  Psalmist  as  he   exclaimed:    '  What^was  the 


THE  REVELATION  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORKS.        73 

matter  with  you,  ye  mountains,  that  ye  skipped  like  rams  ? 
What  was  the  matter  with  you,  ye  little  hills,  that  ye  leaped 
like  lambs  ?  Tremble  thou  earth,  at  the  presence  of  God, 
at  the  comhig  of  the  God  of  Israel.' — The  description  of  a 
tempest  in  the  eighteenth  Psalm,  is  like  the  epitome  of  an 
harangue  from  Him  who  thundereth  marvellously  with  his 
voice  to  his  agitated  enemies.  Let  men  adopt  whatever 
philosophy  they  choose,  there  are  moments  when  they  de- 
tect such  relations  between  physical  phenomena  and  the 
human  soul,  as  do  express,  and,  in  despite  of  the  sternest 
will,  must  express  that  power  and  that  purpose  of  God  which 
are  fearful  to  the  wicked.  The  inward  structure  of  things 
will  sometimes  awaken  in  the  most  atheistic  mind  a  fear  of 
that  mysterious  Agent  who  "  maketli  darkness  his  pavilion 
round  about  him,"  and  "  gathereth  the  winds  in  his  fists." 

Nor  is  the  natural  language  in  which  God  reveals  his 
attributes  limited  to  external  symbols.  We  feel  the  internal 
signs  of  his  character  and  plans.  The  approval  of  a  good 
man's  conscience  has  a  meaning  higher  than  that  of  a  mere 
human  phenomenon.  It  is  an  expression  of  the  divine 
justice.  It  is  a  smile  of  God  alluring  us  to  persevere  in 
well-doing.  It  is  a  prediction  from  his  lips,  that  the  com- 
placency which  is  here  a  stimulus  to  virtue  shall  be  hereafter 
the  central  element  of  all  moral  reward.  The  remorse  of 
conscience  is  also  an  alphabetic  sign  in  the  book  of  nature, 
that  God  is  just.  It  is  a  word  from  him,  predicting  that  the 
displacency  which  is  now  a  dissuasive  from  shi  shall  in  the 
eternal  world  be  the  main  element  of  our  moral  penalty. 
"  The  wrath  of  God,"  saith  an  apostle,  "  is  revealed  from 
heaven"  to  men  capable  of  reading  the  tokens  of  his  wrath ; 
"  because  that  which  may  be  known  of  God  is  manifest  in 
them  ;  for  God  hath  showed  it  unto  them."  Their  sensibiH- 
ties,  more  than  the  stars  of  heaven,  declare  the  glory  of 
God ;  and  their  intellect,  more  than  the  firmament,  showetli 
his  wisdom.  In  swift  succession  tliought  uttereth  speech  to 
thought  within  their  own  minds,  and  feeling  showetli  kuowl- 


74  THE  REVELATION    OF   GOD    IN   HIS    WORKS. 

edge  to  feeling ;  and  the  word  of  God  is  nigh  them,  even  in 
the  recesses  of  their  soul. 

Another  method  in  which  the  works  of  Jehovah  express 
his  character,  is  the  use  of  signs  which  have  a  conventional 
fitness  to  suggest  ideas.  He  has  superadded  arbitrary  to 
natural  language  in  the  communication  of  his  truth.  The 
rainbow  has  nothing  in  its  structure  adapted  to  reveal  a 
divine  promise  respecting  anotlier  flood  ;  but  the  Author  of 
it  gave  it  a  meaning,  and  made  it,  as  it  were,  an  epistle 
printed  on  the  clouds  and  recording  a  divine  purpose.  The 
bread  and  the  wine  would  never  of  themselves  have  signified 
the  truth  of  atoning  love ;  but  God  has  imparted  a  signifi- 
cancy  to  the  bread  and  wine,  and  made  them  words  which 
"  have  gone  out  through  all  the  earth,"  to  illustrate  his  love. 
The  bruised  grain,  its  nutritive  power,  the  breaking  of  the 
one  loaf,  —  the  pressed  grape,  its  exhilarating  influence,  the 
pouring  out  of  the  fruit  of  the  vine,  —  each  of  these  things 
is  a  kind  of  grammatical  sentence  which  has  the  same  mean- 
ing here  and  at  '  the  ends  of  the  world.'  The  articulate 
speech  of  men  also  is,  not  less  really  than  the  earth  itself,  a 
work  of  God.  He  inserted  within  us  the  tendency  to  use 
arbitrary  language.  He  contrived  those  curious  organs  Ijy 
which  we  speak  and  hear.  He  is  the  author  of  that  mys- 
terious fact,  that  the  ideas  and  the  impulses  of  one  man 
move  his  tongue,  "  that  little  member,"  to  start  vibrations  in 
the  atmosphere  reaching  the  tympanum  of  the  ear  of  a  thou- 
sand auditors  at  once,  and  wakening  up  their  minds  and 
their  hearts,  in  an  instant,  with  the  very  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings which  are  stirring  the  tongue  of  the  speaker,  and  per- 
haps inflaming  the  zeal  of  his  hearers  to  a  more  fervid  heat 
than  his  own,  they  anticipating  as  well  as  catching  his  syl- 
lables, and  filling  out,  with  their  own  suggestions,  what  he 
leaves  vacant  in  his  haste.  These  influences  of  speech 
"  declare  the  glory  of  God."  But  more  than  this.  He  uses 
our  words  as  his  own  vocabulary.  Ho  employed  arbitrary 
language  in  conversing  with  Adam,  Abraham,  Moses.     He 


THE   REVELATION    OF    GOD   IN   HIS    WORKS.  75 

adopted  Hebrew,  Chaldaic,  Greek,  Aramgean  sentences,  in 
communicating  his  truth  through  prophets  and  apostles. 
He  now  instructs  men  in  the  words  of  his  ministers.  The 
utterances  of  the  pulpit  are  in  themselves  but  undulating 
air.  Still,  by  means  of  this  invisible,  vibrating  atmosphere, 
the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  breathes  into  the  hearts  of  men  that 
faith  which  "  cometh  by  hearing."  In  allusion  to  this  fact, 
Paul  applies  one  verse  of  our  text  to  the  oral  preachers 
of  the  truth,  and  affirms:  "Yes,  verily  their  sound,"  as 
well  as  that  of  the  sun  and  stars,  "  went  into  all  the  earth, 
and  their  words  unto  the  end  of  the  world."  David  ex- 
claims :  '  0  Lord,  our  Lord,  who  hast  set  thy  glory  above 
the  heavens,  —  out  of  the  mouth  of  children,  thou  hast  pre- 
pared for  thyself  a  power  that  shall  overcome  the  enemy ;' 
and  if  the  voice  of  babes  "  declare  the  glory  of  God,"  then 
much  more  do  the  lips  of  his  evangelists  '  show  his  handy 
work.' 

At  first,  we  meditated  on  the  fact  that  our  Maker  reveals 
his  attributes  in  all  things  which  he  has  made.  Secondly, 
we  examined  the  methods  in  which  the  results  of  his  power 
declare  his  glory.  We  proceed,  in  the  third  place,  to  consider 
some  of  the  reasons  why  Jehovah  unfolds  his  character  in  his 
works. 

One  obvious  reason  is,  that  the  manifestation  of  his  attri- 
butes is  inseparable  from  the  exercise  of  them.  If  he  act  at 
all,  he  must  act  out  the  principles  of  his  being ;  and  to  act 
them  out  is  to  make  them  known.  When  he  governs  the 
world,  he  puts  forth  his  attributes ;  in  putting  them  forth  he 
exposes,  expresses  them.  He  exerts  his  wisdom  in  giving  to 
the  mind  an  impulse  to  infer  the  nature  of  the  cause  from 
the  nature  of  the  effect.  In  exerting  this  wisdom  he  exhibits 
it;  for  it  is  this  wisdom,  as  the  cause,  to  which  the  mind 
reasons  from  itself  as  the  effect.  He  cannot  form  an  image 
of  himself  without  disclosing  the  original  excellence  wliich 
is  imaged  forth.     How  can  he  let  his  benevolence  have  its 


76  THE   REVELATION   OF    GOD    IN   HIS   WORKS. 

free  scope,  unless  he  form  sentient  beings  able  to  enjoy  his 
benevolence ;  and  how  can  they  fully  enjoy  it,  unless  they 
perceive  it ;  and  how  can  they  perceive  it,  unless  he  show  it 
unto  them ;  and  how  can  he  show  it  unto  them  clearly, 
unless  it  appear  in  his  deeds  ?  If  he  exercise  his  mercy 
toward  men,  he  must  relieve  the  suffering ;  if  he  do  give 
tliis  relief,  he  must  therein  manifest  the  mercy  which  he 
feels.  If  he  exercise  his  grace  toward  men,  he  must  bestow 
favor  upon  the  guilty ;  if  he  do  bestow  such  favor,  he  must 
therein  exhibit  the  grace  which  he  cherishes.  It  is  necessary 
for  Him  either  to  repress  his  love  or  to  express  it.  Why 
should  he  repress  it  ?  Why  close  the  gates  through  which 
his  benignant  favors  flow  forth  as  a  stream  ?  Why  seal  up 
the  attributes  whose  outgoings  are  essential  to  his  perfection  ? 
If  he  give  a  full  indulgence  to  his  love,  then  he  makes  men 
capable  of  enjoyment,  and  their  constitution  proclaims  his 
goodness ;  then  he  surrounds  them  with  objects  fitted  to 
awaken  joy,  and  these  objects,  adapted  to  this  constitution, 
unite  with  it  in  preaching  of  his  benignity.     Even  the 

"  flowers  of  lowly  birth. 
Embroiderers  of  the  carpet  earth, 

That  stud  the  velvet  sod, 
Open  to  spring's  refreshing  air, 
And  in  their  smiling  bloom  declare 

Their  Maker  and  their  God  " — 

as  a  Friend  who  expresses  to  the  eye  the  very  goodness  which 
in  our  inward  structure  he  expresses  to  our  conscience ;  and 
who  must  adorn  the  universe  if  he  reveal  his  own  char- 
acter, and  who  cannot  reveal  his  whole  character  unless  he 
adorn  the  universe,  and  make  the  beauties  of  one  day  utter 
speech  to  the  beauties  of  the  day  succeeding. 

Another  reason  why  Jehovah  makes  use  of  his  works  as  a 
language  revealing  his  attributes  is,  that  he  promotes  the 
welfare  of  Jds  offspring  by  the  revelation.  The  father  pleases 
his    children  by  appearing   to  them.      The    disciples  were 


THE    REVELATION    OF    GOD   IN   HIS    WORKS.  77 

troubled  until  they  heard  the  cheering  voice :  "  It  is  I,  be 
not  afraid."  The  Psalmist,  in  our  context,  was  triumphant 
when  he  beheld  the  sun  coming  as  a  bridegroom  out  of  his 
chamber,  and  rejoicing  as  a  hero  to  run  a  race ;  starting 
from  one  end  of  the  heavens  and  careering  to  the  other  end 
of  them,  all  the  day  irradiating  the  world  with  proofs  of  the 
divine  benevolence,  and  converting  every  hill  and  stream 
into  a  mirror  reflecting  the  divine  likeness.  Other  men  are 
often  in  solitude ;  or  if  in  society,  they  have  no  friends. 
But  the  child  of  God,  wherever  he  moves,  is  near  to  his 
Maker.  Under  the  venerable  oak,  or  on  the  skirts  of  the 
deep  sea,  or  in  the  pure  air  of  the  mountain-top,  he  talks 
with  the  Great  Spirit.  The  laws  of  his  own  mind  are  the 
words  of  his  Friend  whispering  within  him.  The  normal 
hopes  of  the  good  man  are  promises,  his  constitutional  fears 
are  threatenings,  his  accurate  judgments  are  instructions, 
directly  from  Him  who  worketh  all  in  all.  Sentimental 
writers  bring  the  truth  into  disrepute,  from  the  manner  in 
which  they  speak  of  Jehovah  revealing  himself  to  men  and 
within  men.  But  here  is  something  beyond  mere  sentimen- 
talism.  Here  is  sober  philosophy.  In  the  constitutional 
workings  of  the  soul  God  does  manifest  himself  to  it.  What- 
ever the  free  will  of  his  creatures  does  not,  their  Maker  does. 
An  author  of  an  effect  must  be  some  free  will.  But  many 
effects  without  us  and  within  us  are  not  produced  by  a 
created  free  will ;  then  they  are  produced  by  the  Uncreated. 
They  make  known  God's  laws.  They  disclose  his  feelings. 
The  acts  of  conscience  testify  of  his  purposes.  The  decisions 
of  the  reason  speak  his  counsel.  The  necessary  beliefs  of 
men  are  his  teachings.  All  ethical  axioms  are  his  revela- 
tion. The  moral  freedom  of  men  is  his  express  summons  to 
a  right  preference.  Their  innocent  joys  are  his  words  of 
good  cheer.  Their  deserved  sorrows  arc  his  loud  rebukes. 
"  All  things  work  together"  and  speak  together  for  the 
good  of  men. 


78  THE    REVELATION    OF    GOD    IN    HIS    WORKS. 

"  Yes,  yes,  all  have  a  voice ;  the  heavens  above. 
The  earth  beneath,  and  things  that  under  earth 
Lie  deeply  hidden,  —  all  send  out  a  sound, 
And  lecture  man,  the  wandering  and  the  lost, 
In  holy  love." 

And  in  the  sober  hours,  the  Sabbath  moods  of  a  well- 
trained  heart, 

"  When  with  chastened  feeling  she  doth  hold 
Converse  with  nature,  then  nor  shrub  nor  tree, 
Nor  flower  that  to  the  sun  its  leaves  unfold. 
But  breathes  a  text  for  some  pure  homily." 

Because  this  thought  is  uttered  in  rhythmical  cadence, 
do  not  throw  it  aside  as  merely  poetical.  The  substance  of 
it  is  prose ;  for  God  animates  and  actuates  all  things,  and 
all  effects  reveal  their  cause ;  and  if  he  produce  results,  he 
appears  in  them ;  if  he  do  not  appear,  he  does  not  produce 
results.  Therefore  inspiration  sends  us  to  the  school  of 
nature.  '■'■Consider  the  ravens;"  for  they  are  preachers  of 
Him  who  feedeth  them.  "  Go  to  the  ant,  —  consider  her 
ways  and  be  wise,"  for  her  ways  have  been  marked  out,  not 
by  her  own  judgment,  but  'by  the  wisdom  of  her  Contriver. 
'■'■Consider  the  lilies;"  for  they  have  a  "silent  eloquence 
more  rich  than  words."  All  flowers,  we  are  told  by  a  poet 
half  enlightened, 

"  are  the  alphabet  of  angels,  whereby 
They  write  on  hills  and  fields  mysterious  truths." 

But  the  complete  philosopher  informs  us  that  they  are 
the  alphabet  not  of  angels  but  of  God.  And  if  the  field 
flower  and  the  insect  and  the  bird  bring  words  to  us  from 
our  great  Teacher,  we  are,  surely,  to  consult  the  oracles 
within  our  own  minds,  the  structure  of  the  imagination,  the 
offices  of  the  memory,  the  laws  of  the  taste  and  judgment, 
the  prophetic  tones  of  conscience.     "  He  that  walketh  with 


THE   REVELATION    OF    GOD    IN   HIS    WORKS.  79 

wise  men  shall  be  wise."  He  learns  dutj  from  their  exam- 
ple ;  spiritual  truth  from  their  words.  But  the  pious  mau 
walks  with  God.  He  attends  to  the  example  of  God  as  it  is 
exhibited  in  all  the  movements  of  matter.  He  listens,  in 
the  spring  time,  to  the  faint  "whisperings  of  a  prophecy  of 
the  resurrection  of  the  dead  by  the  power  of  Him  "  who  so 
clothes  the  grass  of  the  field."  It  is  the  joy  of  a  devout 
man,  —  and  he  invests  himself  with  a  new  dignity  in  the 
indulgence  of  his  delight,  that  wherever  he  goes  he  is  edified 
by  the  mysterious  Preacher  who  writeth  "  sermons  in  stones, 
and  books  in  the  running  brooks." 

Perhaps  it  is  impossible  for  any  power  to  impress  on  the 
mind  any  truth,  by  mere  words,  so  deeply  as  by  acts,  which 
are  emphatic  words.  As  children  learn  the  rules  of  prudence 
from  the  peace  which  follows  one  course  and  the  pain  which 
follows  another,  so  all  minds,  perhaps,  may  learn  the  char- 
acter of  God  from  his  prosperous  or  afflictive  dispensations, 
more  clearly  than  from  any  artificial  utterances.  Grief 
has  a  pungent  eloquence.  Adversity  writes  with  a  sharp 
thorn. 

Another  reason  why  Jehovah  reveals  his  excellence  through 
his  works  is,  that  he  promotes  his  own  blessedness  by  the 
revelation.  He  might,  in  merely  written  syllables,  inform 
us  that  he  is  omnipotent ;  but  as  a  sovereign,  he  chooses  to 
speak  to  us  by  the  globes  of  heaven,  which  declare  him  tu 
be  almighty.  He  might,  in  a  merely  artificial  language, 
indicate  his  benevolence ;  but  he  prefers  to  address  us  in 
our  own  joys  and  hopes,  which  rehearse  his  loving-kindness. 

But  why  do  we  presume  that  the  blessedness  of  the  Most 
High  is  promoted  by  his  development  of  his  excellence  ?  So 
far  as  we  have  learned,  it  is  the  law  of  all  sentient  beings,  to 
express  themselves.  Even  the  cattle  on  a  thousand  hills, 
the  birds  of  the  air,  have  an  irrepressible  longing  to  make 
known  what  they  feel.  The  child  smiles  and  cries,  the  man 
speaks  ;  he  must  speak  ;  a  fire  burns  in  his  bones  and  flames 
out,  forcing  itself  through  the  most  intricate  way  of  com- 


80  THE   REVELATION    OF    GOD   IN   HIS   WORKS. 

munication  when  the  easiest  avenues  are  shut  up.  It  is  the 
law  of  all  mind,  above  all  a  pure  mind,  of  course  then  an 
infinite  mind,  to  bring  itself  out  to  the  light.  Why  then 
should  not  the  Being  of  whom  we  are  the  image,  feel  an 
immeasurable  bliss  in  gratifying  his  desire  to  manifest,  in 
the  view  of  others,  what  he  enjoys  himself? 

But  he  has  more  than  this  constitutional  tendency  to 
develop  his  character.  This  character  is  a  good  in  itself, 
and  deserves  his  own  as  well  as  our  supreme  love  ;  delight- 
ing in  it,  he  must  be  happy  in  the  radiating  of  it  upon  his 
offspring.  The  exercise  of  his  attributes  is  a  source  of  bliss, 
and  we  have  seen  that  he  cannot  exercise  them  in  their 
normal  way  without  manifesting  them ;  he  must  therefore 
rejoice  in  their  manifestation.  He  loves  to  promote  the  hap- 
piness of  his  friends  ;  he  gratifies  this  love  ;  and  their  happi- 
ness is  a  fruit  and  sign  of  his  benevolence.  He  chooses  to 
advance  the  welfare  of  his  enemies  in  their  probation.  He 
gratifies  this  choice,  and  their  welfare  is  the  result  and  proof 
of  his  grace.  He  cannot  give  to  the  angels  their  appropriate 
honor  without  letting  his  own  goodness  shine  out  in  their 
glory ;  why  should  he  conceal  that  goodness  ?  He  cannot 
raise  men  to  their  destined  thrones,  without  illustrating  his 
own  mercy  in  their  exaltation  ;  why  should  he  hide  that 
mercy.  These  things,  such  things,  are  not  done  in  a  corner. 
A  fountain  does  not  keep  itself  compressed  in  a  ball  of  ice. 
The  sun  does  not  bind  its  rays  to  and  within  itself.  From 
within,  outward,  all  affections  flow  forth.  From  the  recesses 
of  the  soul  to  the  well-being  of  the  universe,  all  right  affec- 
tions move  forward.  The  diffusing  of  its  own  joy  is  the  law 
of  a  loving  heart,  and  only  in  the  diffusing  of  it  is  the  full 
development  of  it,  and  only  in  its  development  is  the  con- 
summating of  its  rest. 

Having  first  considered  the  fact  that  God  does  reveal  his 
attributes  in  his  works  ;  secondly,  the  modes  in  which  he 
reveals  them ;  and  thirdly,  the  reasons  for  which  he  does  it, 


THE  REVELATION  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORKS.        81 

let  US  attend,  in  the  fourth  place,  to  some  remarks  which  are 
suggested  by  this  theme. 

The  first  remark  is  on  the  reasojiableness  of  Jehovah  in  his 
retributive  administration.  He  loves  virtue.  His  constitu- 
tional desire  is  to  manifest  his  love.  Why  should  he  restrain 
this  desire  ?  But  if  he  express  it,  his  nature  prompts  him  to 
express  it  by  act.  And  the  act  by  which  he  will  make  known 
his  love  of  virtue,  —  known  thoroughly  by  being  felt  deeply, 

—  is  the  exciting  of  the  moral  sensibility  of  virtuous  agents 
in  favor  of  their  own  rectitude.  Their  complacency  of  con- 
science, and  many  of  its  preliminary  and  consequent  joys, 
will  be  their  reward.  The  reward  is  worked  out  according 
to  the  laws  of  their  constitution.  But  these  laws  are  the 
work,  and  therefore  the  word  of  God.  They  express  his 
remunerative  justice.    Is  it  not  a  reward  directly  from  him  ? 

—  what  can  be  a  richer  recompense  than  for  us  to  feel  that 
the  Author  of  our  moral  faculty  is  ever,  without  one  mo- 
ment's interim,  cherishing  an  immeasurable  joy  in  us,  and 
expressing  that  joy,  not  by  mere  arbitrary  signs,  but  by  the 
complacency  flowing  from  our  own  moral  judgment,  and 
therefore  stable  and  sure,  because  the  judgment  is  ever  sus- 
tained and  the  complacency  is  ever  quickened  by  his  ener- 
gizing Spirit.  Not  one  suspicion  will  ever  darken  our  mind, 
that  our  remunerating  friend  is  distant  from  us,  but  we 
shall  drink  in  a  ceaseless  life  from  the  assurance  that  we 
hear  him  declaring,  what  our  moral  sentiments  will  be 
always  expressing,  his  own  complacency  in  our  character  as 
perfected  by  his  grace.  He  will  reveal  his  loving  approval 
in  our  moral  judgments ;  these  will  be  the  heavens  declaring 
the  glory  of  God.  And  is  it  not  reasonable,  that  he  should 
honestly  express  what  he  inwardly  feels  ?  This  disposition 
to  express  his  delight  in  the  pure  of  heart,  and  to  make 
them  blissful  in  receiving  the  expression,  is  his  remunerative 
justice  to  them. 

Equally  reasonable   is  the  punitive  justice  of  the  Most 


82  THE   REVELATION    OF    GOD    IN   HIS   WORKS. 

High.  He  abhors  sin.  It  is  an  infinite  hatred.  No  finite 
mind  can  ever  fathom  tlie  deptli  of  his  displeasure  toward 
one  solitary  transgression.  Shall  he  conceal  his  displeasure  ? 
His  abhorrence  of  sin  is  nothing  dishonorable,  nothing 
wrong.  Why  should  he  hesitate  to  express  it  ?  It  is  what 
it  ought  to  be,  noble,  magnanimous.  Why  shall  he  not  be 
honest  in  revealing  it'  ?  And  if  he  do  reveal  it,  why  shall  he 
not  adopt  the  method  which  he  prefers  in  his  ordinary  dis- 
pensations ;  the  method  which  the  law  of  his  being  has  pre- 
scribed ;  the  method  of  action,  the  emphatic,  the  divine 
speech  ?  Arbitrary  words,  perhaps,  cannot  be  made  to  unfold 
his  exact  meaning ;  he  must  awaken  the  moral  sensibility 
of  sinners  against  themselves ;  incite  them  to  condemn  their 
own  wrong.  This  remorse,  and  many  of  its  preliminary  and 
consequojit  pains,  are  their  punishment.  The  punishment  is 
worked  out  according  to  the  laws  of  their  constitution.  But 
these  laws  are  the  device  of  God.  They  express  what  he 
feels.  The  upbraidings  of  conscience  are  the  declarations  of 
his  punitive  justice.  They  are  the  vivid  signs  of  the  dis- 
pleasure of  Him  who  made  the  conscience,  and  employs  it 
as  his  interpreter.  It  is  He  who  inflicts  the  pain ;  he  inflicts 
it  directly ;  not  because  he  has  an  instinct  for  pain  ;  —  that 
be  far  from  him  ;  but  because  he  is  honest,  and  chooses  to 
disclose  his  feelings  just  as  they  are,  and  because  this  open- 
ness in  disclosing  them  is  essential  to  the  highest  good,  and 
because  the  remorseful  agonies  of  the  transgressor  are  the 
normal  language  expressing  the  lawgiver's  justice.  And  is 
it  not  a  punishment  from  Jehovah  ?  —  what  can  be  a  severer 
recompense  than  for  us,  if  we  are  left  incorrigible,  to  have 
the  inward  assurance  that  our  friend,  our  best  friend,  is  ever 
near  us,  frowning  upon  us,  —  our  compunction  being  his 
frown  ;  —  not  because  he  is  indifferent  to  our  persons,  but 
because  he  loves  them  and  therefore  abhors  our  suicidal 
crimes,  and  exposes  his  abhorrence,  not  in  artificial  forms  of 
speech,  but  in  our  own  reason,  in  our  moral  judgment,  in  all 
ithe  pains  by  which  he  awakens  our  displaccncy,  and  which 


THE   REVELATION    OF    GOD    IN    HIS    WORKS.  83 

he  appends  to  it.  Forever  and  ever  to  be  gazed  at  by  a  man; 
whenever  we  look  up,  or  around,  or  wherever  we  cast  our 
eye,  to  see  a  man's  frown,  and  find  no  mterval  of  repose 
from  this  unceasing  gaze,  would  be  a  discomfort  which  no 
imagination  can  measure.  But  to  remain  through  eternity, 
and  without  a  single  moment's  relief,  fastening  our  vision 
upon  one  and  the  same  omnipotent  Being,  who  searcheth  us, 
and  his  eyes  are  ever  upon  us  ;  who  preserves  us,  and  we 
cannot  flee  from  his  presence  ;  who  loves  us  even  to  the  end, 
and  therefore  abhors  our  sinful  abuse  of  ourselves,  and 
expresses  his  abhorrence  in  no  passive  way,  but  by  causing 
us  to  despise  our  own  character,  and  to  feel  the  exact  fitness 
of  our  own  self-contempt  and  of  his  infinite  displeasure,  — 
this,  this  is  the  interminable  monotony  of  the  pain  of  a 
rational  being  from  whom  his  Judge  conceals  nothing.  With 
what  emphasis  will  the  words  of  our  text  be  reiterated  by 
that  lost  one,  when  the  skies  which  now  speak  to  his  hope, 
shall  speak  only  to  his  fear:  'The  heavens,  —  I  look  up  to 
them,  and  they  still  declare  the  goodness  of  God,  and  it  is  that 
goodness  which  afflicts  me:  and  the  firmament,  —  I  gaze  at 
it,  and  still  it  showeth  his  handy  work,  and  that  is  the  work 
which  now  reminds  me  of  what  I  was,  and  of  what  I  am. 
There,  day  unto  day  uttereth  speech,  and  I  listen  to  it  and 
am  troubled.  Here,  night  unto  night  showeth  knowledge, 
and  I  see  it,  and  it  is  a  weariness  to  me.  No  speech  —  no 
language  —  their  voice  is  not  heard,  —  but  still  their  sound 
goeth  forth  through  all  the  earth,  wherever  I  may  escape ; 
and  their  words  reach  to  the  ends  of  the  world,  if  I  take  the 
wings  of  daybreak,  and  fly  thither.  Amid  the  swellings  of 
my  own  compunction,  deep  calleth  unto  deep;  my  judgment 
speaks  to  my  memory,  and  my  conscience  cries  out  to  my 
fears,  and  my  punishment  is  so  rational,  that  it  is  greater 
than  I  can  bear.'  Is  it  not  a  reasonable  punishment,  when  it 
convinces  the  intelligent  universe,  that  He  is  sincere  and 
wise  who  expresses  his  dislike  of  wrong  in  the  language  of 
suffering,  than  which  no  sign  can  be  more  vivid  or  more 


84  THE  REVELATION   OF   GOD   IN    HIS    WORKS. 

eloquent  ?  Is  it  not  a  reasonable  punishment,  when  it  utters 
such  lessons  concerning  the  law,  the  divine  justice,  the  evil 
of  sin,  as  quicken  the  spirits  of  heaven  to  new  fidelity,  and 
dissuade  men  on  earth  from  perseverance  in  transgression  ? 
Is  it  not  a  reasonable  punishment,  when  it  is  needed  as  a 
beacon-fire  to  warn  off  the  erring  voyager  from  his  perilous 
way,  and  as  a  telegraph  to  signify  through  the  entire  uni- 
verse, in  a  mode  quicker  and  brighter  than  that  of  the  light- 
ning, that  there  is  one  evil  greater  than  pain,  and  pain  is 
the  last  resort  to  deter  us  from  that  one  evil,  the  exceeding 
sinfulness  of  sin? 

A  second  remark,  suggested  by  our  theme,  is  on  the  con- 
sistency of  the  atonement  with  other  parts  of  the  divine  adminis- 
tration. As  the  Most  High  loves  to  express  himself  in  the 
material  world,  so  he  loves  to  express  himself  in  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  mind  and  heart.  As  he  chooses  to  disclose 
his  attributes  in  the  punishment  of  the  wicked,  when  this 
punishment  is  needful  for  the  common  welfare,  so  he  chooses 
to  dispense  with  punishment  when  he  can  disclose  the  same 
attributes,  and  impress  the  same  truths,  and  promote  the 
same  well-being,  in  some  equivalent  way.  The  power  of 
any  language  to  suggest  ideas  and  excite  emotions  is  mys- 
terious. Articulate  speech  is  a  wonder.  The  significance  of 
penal  suffering  is  felt  more  clearly  than  it  can  be  described. 
But  the  fulness  and  variety  and  intensity  of  meaning  and 
of  impression  in  the  atonement,  are  what  even  the  angels 
desire  to  look  into.  The  truth-loving  God  has  threatened 
eternal  woe  to  sinners ;  can  he  save  them  and  yet  attest  his 
veracity  ?  The  cross  needs  no  superscription  ;  it  is,  itself,  a 
superscription  in  Latin  and  Greek  and  Hebrew  and  in  every 
language  spoken  under  heaven,  telling  the  reasons  why,  and 
the  methods  wherein,  the  threatening  is  true,  even  when  its- 
execution  is  waived !  God  is  just ;  how  then  can  he  manifest 
tliis  attribute,  if  he  treat  the  wicked  as  if  they  had  never 
sinned  ?     The  death  of  his  Son  is  a  more  conspicuous  sign 


THE  REVELATION  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORKS.        o5 

of  his  retributive  sentiment  than  could  be  delineated  on  the 
heavens,  if  all  the  stars  were  arranged  in  legible  sentences 
and  paragraphs,  asserting  and  reiterating  his  punitive  justice. 
Unwavering  is  God  in  his  abhorrence  of  sin ;  how  then  does 
he  welcome  the  sinner  to  himself?  How  ?  We  know.  We 
feel.  The  scene  on  Calvary  uncovers  the  depths  of  his  holi- 
ness, and  unveils  the  fitness  of  his  forgiving  love.  Are  there 
any  alphabetic  tokens  that  he  retains  the  attribute  of  mercy 
or  grace  in  view  of  even  those  whom  he  destroys  ?  The  ago- 
nies of  Jesus  are  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  this  alphabet. 
All  the  moral  attributes  of  God  are  rehearsed  in  the  sighs 
which  heaved  the  bosom  of  the  Redeemer  on  Olivet,  in  the 
sobbings  at  Gethsemane,  in  the  outcries  on  Golgotha.  Those 
audible  sounds  were  the  indices  of  an  inward  character  and 
state,  which  were  the  clearest  possible  exponent  of  the  divine 
perfections. 

It  has  been  said  that  our  Redeemer  endured  the  identical 
penalty  which  had  been  threatened  against  sinners.  But  the 
penalty  of  the  law  is  everlasting  damnation.  Was  the  only 
beloved  Son  damned  ?  Forever  ?  Se  endured  that  which  ex- 
pressed  as  much  as  would  have  been  signified  in  the  endless  perdi- 
tion of  men.  Is  it  replied  that  he  suffered,  if  not  an  eternal, 
yet  some  punishment  ?  Me  bore  the  pain  which  ivas  equivalent 
in  meaning  to  a  punishment.  His  death  spoke  out  all  which 
our  penalty  would  have  denoted.  He  who  never  felt  one 
pang  of  remorse,  one  jar  of  discordant  feeling,  but  was  sus- 
tained by  an  unfaltering  complacence  in  his  own  love  to  his 
Father,  and  his  Father's  love  to  him,  —  for  even  when  for- 
saken, he  knew  that  his  Father  delighted  in  him  as  of  old, — 
he,  the  very  impersonation  of  innocence  and  peace  of  con- 
science, was  incapacitated  to  receive  the  pain  which  is  called 
damnation ;  he  could  no  more  be  morally  punished,  than 
could  the  lamb  which  was  a  type  of  him  ;  but  he  could,  and 
he  did  make  an  atonement,  as  the  lamb  on  the  altar  prefig- 
ured an  atonement,  whicli  was  a  substitute  for  penal  infliction. 
Olio  mode  of  speech  may  be  substituted  for  another,  to  ex- 


86  THE  REVELATION    OF   GOD   IN   HIS   WORKS. 

press  the  same  idea.  There  is  a  meaning  in  punishment. 
It  speaks  to  the  universe.  It  asserts  the  rectitude  of  the 
Lawgiver  and  of  the  law.  But  here  is  an  exchange.  When 
transgressors  are  saved,  the  atonement,  instead  of  their  pun- 
ishment, appeals  to  the  universe,  and  so  appeals  as  to  prove 
the  rectitude  of  the  Lawgiver  and  of  the  law,  while  the  pen- 
alty which  is  still  due  is  not  inflicted.  Christ  is  the  Word. 
He  spake  at  the  beginning,  and  in  the  heavens  declared  the 
glory  of  God.  On  his  cross  he  was  still  the  Word,  uttering 
speech  to  principalities  and  powers,  and  proving  to  the  uni- 
verse that  it  is  consistent  for  God,  while  he  remains  just,  to 
justify  the  ungodly.  Punishment  speaks  to  men.  It  warns 
them  to  flee  from  sin.  But  here  is  an  exchange.  When 
transgressors  are  saved,  the  atonement,  instead  of  their  pun- 
ishment, speaks  to  men.  There  is  no  oral  speecli  in  the 
bleeding  side  of  the  Redeemer.  There  is  no  avidible  lan- 
guage in  his  pierced  hands  ;  his  voice  in  the  undulating  air 
is  no  longer  heard ;  but  the  expressiveness  of  his  wounds  has 
gone  out  through  all  the  earth,  and  the  real  words  of  his 
cross  penetrate  to  the  ends  of  the  world.  Now,  as  on  the 
day  of  his  crucifixion,  the  rocks  are  rent,  and  the  graves  are 
opened  by  Him  who  speaketh  as  never  man  spake  ;  breaking 
the  hard  heart,  raising  the  dead  will,  and  rending  the  veil  of 
forms  and  ceremonies  from  the  top  to  the  bottom.  The 
atonement  addresses  not  men  only,  not  the  created  universe 
only,  but  the  Creator.  It  persuades  him  to  bless  his  enemies. 
Once,  the  blood  of  Abel  cried  to  him  from  the  ground ;  but 
now,  the  blood  of  Christ  speaketh  better  things  than  the 
blood  of  Abel.  It  has  a  voice,  says  our  celebrated  poet, — 
"  Blood  has  a  voice  to  pierce  the  skies."  The  atonement  is 
a  prayer  from  the  Son  to  the  Father.  The  influence  of  it  is 
prolonged,  even  to  our  time  ;  and  in  the  efficacy  of  his  death 
he  is  an  Intercessor  for  us.  The  atonement  is  a  plea  in  our 
behalf;  the  eloquence  of  it  is  continued  even  yet,  and  in  its 
importunity  our  Redeemer  is  our  Advocate,  rehearsing  the 
argument  of  his  death  for  our  salvation. 


THE  REVELATION  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORKS.         RT 

It  is  objected,  that  if  the  atonement  consists  in  expressing 
the  divine  character,  it  is  ostentatious ;  that  the  rule  of  life 
is,  not  to  do  good  for  the  sake  of  manifesting  a  will  to  do  it, 
but  for  the  sake  of  the  good  which  is  done.  Ostentatious ! 
But  "  the  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God  ;  "  why  should  we 
complain  if  they  declared  his  justice  and  grace,  when  they 
shrouded  themselves  in  darkness  at  the  hour  of  the  Redeem- 
er's passion  ?  Ostentatious  !  But '  day  uttereth  speech  unto 
day-)^  and  why  may  we  not  believe  that  the  day  when  our 
Lord  was  crucified,  will  rehearse  its  discourse  to  the  day 
when  he  shall  reappear  to  welcome  his  chosen  friends  ?  Is  it 
ostentatious  for  one  night  to  show  knowledge  unto  another  ? 
Why  then  is  it  a  thing  incredible,  that  the  night  when  Jesus 
lay  in  his  tomb,  should  impart  instruction  to  the  night  when 
we  are  groping  in  sin,  and  longing  for  one  glimpse  of  hope 
for  our  wearied  souls  ?  One  principle  pervades  all  the  works 
of  God,  and  that  is  the  principle  of  revealing  their  Maker. 
Their  revelation  of  Him  is  his  revelation  of  himself.  The 
*  herbs  and  fruits  and  flowers  roll  soft  their  incense 

'  In  mingled  clouds  to  Him  whose  sun  exalts, 
Whose  breath  perfumes  them,  and  whose  pencil  paints.' 

It  is  not  tliey^  however,  it  is  He  who  thus  enforces  his 
claims  upon  our  regard.  And  can  it  be  ostentatious  for  Him 
to  comply  with  his  nature  whose  primal  law  is  to  develop  its 
own  excellence ;  an  excellence  which  deserves  to  be  made 
known ;  an  excellence  consisting  in  attributes  which  cannot 
be  exercised  without  being  displayed,  and  cannot  be  dis- 
played without  elevating  and  refining  all  who  are  willing  to 
be  made  wise  ? 

But,  it  is  rejoined,  the  works  of  nature  promote  the  wel- 
fare of  men,  and  as  a  consequence  reveal  their  Author,  while 
the  atonement  is  supposed  to  reveal  its  Author,  and  as  a  con- 
sequence promote  the  tvelfare  of  men.  The  two  things,  we 
reply,  are  inseparably  conjoined.  Our  Father  in  heaven 
would  recall  his  erring  children  from  sin.     In  one  view,  his 


88  THE    REVELATION    OF    GOD    IN    HIS    WORKS. 

first  intent  is  to  make  them  holy.  First  of  all,  he  loved  the 
world,  and  desired  the  holiness  of  the  world,  so  that  he  then 
gave  his  Son.  He  cannot  interpose  for  his  enemies,  without 
some  expression  of  regard  for  his  law.  His  comprehensive 
wisdom  devises  the  plan,  by  which  he  makes  this  needed  ex- 
pression in  the  very  attempt  to  awaken  the  desired  holiness 
in  his  foes.  He  condescends  to  unite  himself  with  men ; 
this  condescension  is  one  part  of  the  atonement,  and  one 
motive  to  our  virtue.  He  denies  himself  in  giving  instruc- 
tion to  men.  This  self-denial  is  one  part  of  the  atonement, 
and  involves  those  truths  which  are  one  means  of  reforming 
our  will.  He  submits  to  the  sacrifice  of  toil  and  pain  for  the 
relief  of  the  hungry,  the  bereaved,  the  remorseful.  This 
toil  and  pain  form  one  part  of  the  atonement,  and  suggest 
one  incentive  to  our  piety.  He  resigns  himself  to  all  the 
physical,  and  all  the  mental  woes  of  the  hour  when  he  was 
deserted  of  the  Father.  These  mysterious  pains  comprehend 
the  main  part  of  the  atonement ;  and  while  they  make  it 
consistent  for  God  to  pardon  sin,  they  also  offer  persuasives 
for  us  to  abandon  it.  The  death  of  Christ,  then,  is  express- 
ive of  God,  because  it  is  beneficent ;  and  also  it  is  beneficent, 
because  it  is  expressive  of  God.  It  is  the  beneficence  of 
God  manifest  in  the  flesh.  The  last  complaint  which  could 
be  expected  from  a  student  of  nature  is,  that  the  goodness 
which  radiates  in  the  stars  of  heaven,  should  also  shine  out 
in  Him  who  is  the  Bright  and  Morning  Star ;  that  the  kind- 
liness which  beams  forth  from  the  luminary  of  the  skies, 
should  also  be  displayed  in  Him  who  is  the  Sun  of  Right- 
eousness. When  Jesus  was  lifted  up  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin,  he 
verified  his  saying,  "  I  am  the  light  of  the  world,"  for  then 
he  illuminated  all  the  obscure  dispensations  of  Providence. 
When,  in  the  process  of  crucifixion,  he  made  the  justice  and 
the  grace  of  God  illustrious,  then  was  he  "  the  brightness 
of  the  Father's  glory,  and  the  express  image  of  his  person  ;  " 
and  in  that  brightness  we  read  the  rectitude  of  the  Father ; 
and  in  that  imago  we  see  the  consistency  of  his  ways ;  and 


THE    REVELATION    OF    GOD    IN    HIS    WORKS.  89 

in  declaring  this  rectitude,  in  securing,  showing  and  enforc- 
ing this  consistency,  lies  the  essence  of  the  atonement.' 

A  third  remark,  suggested  by  our  theme,  is  on  the  Jiarmony 
of  both  the  visible  and  invisible  works  of  God  with  the  feelings  of 
a  devout  man.  He  keeps  his  ear  attent  to  the  sounds  of  the 
land,  air,  sea,  and  therefore  they  express  to  him  rich  truths. 
Ebal  shouts  to  Gerizim,  and  Gerizim  shouts  back  to  Ebal  the 
words  of  the  Lord.  He  draws  nigh  to  them  who  seek  him 
in  his  works,  and  he  hides  himself  from  them  who  care  not 
to  listen  for  his  voice.  As  when  man  smiles,  it  is  the  soul 
originating  the  smile,  and  when  he  frowns,  it  is  the  soul 
causing  the  frown  ;  so  when  the  face  of  nature  wears  a  pleas- 
ing or  a  forbidding  aspect,  the  expression  of  thought  comes 
from  the  Spirit  who  animates  the  face  of  nature,  and  speaks 
through  it  as  by  a  prophet  or  apostle.  One  of  our  own 
divines,  who  might  have  been  the  first  poet  of  the  land,  had 
he  not  chosen  to  be  its  first  theologian,  one  who  in  times 
gone  by  held  sweet  counsel  with  two  of  the  pastors,  and  sev- 
eral of  the  members  of  this  church,^  and  came  with  them  to 
this  house  of  God  in  company,  was  wont  to  look  out  upon  all 
nature  as  a  temple  filled  with  symbols  of  the  Most  High,  and 
to  converse  with  the  Infinite  Mind  revealing  itself  through 
the  expressive  movements  of  matter,  as  of  old  in  the  bu^h 
that  burned.  "  Wlien  the  discourse  [with  my  father]  was 
ended,"  he  said,  "•  1  w^alked  abroad  alone  in  a  solitary  place, 

1  "  Whom  God  hath  set  forth  to  be  a  propitiation,  through  faith  in  his  blood, 
to  declare  (ei's  ^vZei^iv),  his  righteousness  for  the  remission  of  sins  that  are  past, 
through  the  forbearance  of  God  ;  to  declare,  I  say  (irphs  tt)v  tvZu^kv),  at  this  time 
his  righteousness  ;  that  he  might  be  just,  and  the  justifier  of  him  which  believcth 
in  Jesus."  —  Rom.  iii.  25,  26. 

'^  Rev.  Drs.  Sewall  and  Prince,  Hon.  John  Bromfield,  Hon.  Andrew  Oliver,  and 
others.  The  first  sermon  or  essay  which  President  Edwards  ever  published,  was 
his  "  Thursday  Lecture,"  preached  in  Boston  July  8,  1731,  and  prefaced  with  an 
"  advertisement "  from  Dr.  Prince  and  Dr.  Cooper.  "  It  was  with  no  small  diffi- 
culty," they  say,  "  that  the  author's  youth  and  modesty  were  prevailed  on  to  let 
him  appear  a  preacher  in  our  public  lecture,  and  afterwards  to  give  us  a  copy  of 
his  discourse  "  for  the  press.     He  was  then  in  the  twenty-eighth  year  of  his  age. 


90  THE   REVELATION    OF   GOD    IN    HIS    WORKS. 

in  my  father's  pasture,  for  contemplation.  And  as  I  was 
walking  there,  and  looking  upon  the  sky  and  clouds,  there 
came  into  my  mind  so  sweet  a  sense  of  the  glorious  majesty 
and  grace  of  God,  as  I  know  not  how  to  express.  I  seemed 
to  see  them  both  in  a  sweet  conjunction,  majesty  and  meek- 
ness joined  together.  It  was  a  sweet  and  gentle  and  holy 
majesty,  and  also  a  majestic  meekness ;  an  awful  sweetness ; 
a  high  and  great  and  holy  gentleness.  After  this,  my  sense 
of  divine  things  gradually  increased,  and  became  more  and 
more  lively,  and  had  more  of  the  inward  sweetness.  The 
appearance  of  every  thing  was  altered.  There  seemed  to  be, 
as  it  were,  a  calm,  sweet  cast,  or  appearance  of  divine  glory, 
in  almost  everything.  God's  excellency,  his  wisdom,  his 
purity  and  love,  seemed  to  appear  in  every  thing ;  in  the  sun, 
moon  and  stars,  in  the  clouds  and  blvie  sky,  in  the  grass, 
flowers,  trees,  in  the  water  and  all  nature,  which  used  greatly 
to  fix  my  mind.  I  often  used  to  sit  and  view  the  moon  for  a 
long  time ;  and  in  the  day  spent  much  time  in  viewing  the 
clouds  and  sky,  to  behold  the  sweet  glory  of  God  in  these 
things,  in  the  mean  time  singing  forth,  with  a  low  voice,  my 
contemplations  of  the  Creator  and  Redeemer.  And  scarce 
anything  among  all  the  works  of  nature  was  so  sweet  to  me 
as  tliunder  and  lightning ;  formerly,  nothing  had  been  so 
terrible  to  me.  Before,  I  used  to  be  uncommonly  terrified 
with  thunder,  and  to  be  struck  with  terror  when  I  saw  a 
thunder-storm  rising.  But  now,  on  the  contrary,  it  rejoiced 
me.  I  felt  God,  if  I  may  so  speak,  at  the  first  appearance 
of  a  thunder-storm,  and  used  to  take  the  opportunity,  at  such 
times,  to  fix  myself  in  order  to  view  the  clouds  and  see  the 
lightnings  play,  and  hear  the  majestic  and  awful  voice  of 
God's  thunder,  which  oftentimes  was  exceedingly  entertain- 
ing, leading  me  to  sweet  contemplations  of  my  great  and 
glorious  God.  While  thus  engaged,  it  always  seemed  natu- 
ral for  me  to  sing  or  chant  forth  my  meditations,  or  to  speak 
my  thoughts  in  soliloquies  with  a  singing  voice." ' 

1  I'rcsidcnt  Edwards's  Works,  vol.  i.  pp.  61,  02.     Dwiglit's  edition. 


THE    REVELATION    OF    GOD    IN    HIS    WORKS.  91 

The  same  great  metaphysician,  who  describes  himself  as 
having  "  sometimes  a  kind  of  vision,  or  fixed  ideas  and  imagi- 
nations of  being  alone  in  the  mountains,  or  some  solitary 
wilderness,  far  from  all  mankind,  sweetly  conversing  with 
Christ  and  wrapt  and  swallowed  up  in  God,"  thus  recites  his 
experiences  with  nature  in  her  gentler  teachings :  "  Holiness, 
as  I  then  wrote  down  some  of  my  contemplations  on  it,  ap- 
peared to  me  to  be  of  a  sweet,  pleasant,  charming,  serene, 
calm  nature  ;  which  brought  an  inexpressible  purity,  bright- 
ness, peacefulness  and  ravishment  to  the  soul.  In  other 
words,  that  it  made  the  soul  like  a  field  or  garden  of  God, 
with  all  manner  of  pleasant  flowers ;  enjoying  a  sweet  calm, 
and  the  gentle,  vivifying  beams  of  the  sun.  The  soul  of  a 
true  Christian,  as  I  then  wrote  my  meditations,  appeared  like 
such  a  little  white  flower  as  we  see  in  the  spring  of  the  year, 
low  and  humble  on  the  ground,  opening  its  bosom  to  receive 
the  pleasant  beams  of  the  sun's  glory,  rejoicing  as  it  were,  in 
a  calm  rapture,  diffusing  around  a  sweet  fragrance,  standing 
peacefully  and  lovingly  in  the  midst  of  other  flowers  round 
about ;  all  in  like  manner  opening  their  bosoms,  to  drink  in 
the  light  of  the  sun."  ^ 

The  rose  forcing  its  way  up  amid  the  banks  of  snow  on  the 
mountains  of  Switzerland,  speaks  not  a  word  to  the  listless 
observer ;  but  to  the  man  who  walks  over  the  mountains,  and 
listens  for  the  voices  of  instruction  there,  the  Alpine  rose  ex- 
presses, by  its  analogies,  just  what  it  would  have  uttered 
orally,  if  it  had  a  mind  and  the  gift  of  tongues ;  virtually  it 
does  say  to  the  mental  ear : 

"  View  in  this  mountain's  frozen  breast 

An  emblem  true  of  thine, 
So  cold,  so  hard,  till  on  it  rest 

A  beam  of  light  divine. 
Feel'st  thou  this  life-inspiring  ray  ? 
If  not,  then  upward  look  and  pray, 

1  President  Edwards's  Works,  vol.  i.  pp.  61,  65.     Dwight's  edition. 


92  THE   REVELATION   OF   GOD   IN    HIS   WORKS. 

That  He  who  made  these  mountain  snows 
A  cradle  for  the  opening  rose, 
Would  deep  within  thine  heart  embower 
A  brighter  far  than  earthly  flower." 

"We  have  heard  what  men  say  of  the  century  plant.  '  Day 
unto  day  it  uttereth  speech,  night  unto  night  it  showeth 
knowledge.'  Year  after  year  its  awkward  forms  arouse  the 
curiosity  of  man,  and  after  a  lengthened  period  of  patient 
waiting  by  fathers  and  children  and  children's  children,  it  sud- 
denly fulfils  the  dark  predictions  concerning  it,  and  develops 
the  beauties  which  had  lain  hidden  within  its  crooked  stalk ; 
and  its  brilliant  colorings  attest  the  power  and  the  grace  of 
Him  who  maketh  every  thing  beautiful  in  Us  season.  That 
flower  is  a  living  word,  growing  out  of  a  divine  skill.  But 
the  history  of  our  entire  race  has  been  like  the  record  of 
that  growth  of  the  agave.  The  unsightly  branches  of  the 
race  have  spread  themselves  out  prophetic  of  some  excellence 
that  had  not  yet  appeared,  and  after  prophets  and  kings  had 
longed  to  see  the  glory  that  was  to  come,  but  had  died  with- 
out the  sight,  —  at  length  the  stem  of  Jesse  budded,  and  the 
beauty  of  the  whole  earth  bloomed  out  in  the  vale  of  Judea. 
That  was  the  rose  of  Sharon.  That  was  the  blossoming  of 
the  true  vine,  whereof  we  are  the  branches.  That  was  the 
Word  of  God. 

We  have  heard  the  stories  which  men  tell  of  the  passion- 
flower, enfolding  in  itself  all  the  symbols  of  the  crucifixion. 
An  image  of  the  cross  is  in  it,  men  say ;  and  of  the  nail, 
and  of  the  spear,  and  of  the  mallet.  And  men,  like  Michael 
Angelo  and  Raphael,  have  also  pointed  out  the  images  of  the 
cross  in  the  out-spreading  limbs  of  the  trees,  in  the  extended 
arms  of  the  human  body,  in  the  jutting  promontories,  and  in 
some  of  the  stars  of  heaven.  But  we  have  no  need  of  these 
fanciful  analogies.  In  the  structure  of  all  things  related  to 
the  human  soul  we  detect  a  pliilosophy,  pointing  us  to  some 
great  Propitiation  that  "  takctli  away  the  sin  of  the  world." 
The  impulses  of  hope  and  fear,  the  want  of  fitness  in  the 


THE  REVELATION  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORKS.        93 

earth  to  satisfy  our  immortal  desires,  the  tendencies  of  our 
joys  as  well  as  sorrows  to  leave  our  souls  restless  while  in 
sin,  all  our  experiences  in  life  proclaim  our  need  of  Jesus  as 
our  Redeemer.  The  longing  of  the  convicted  soul  to  find 
peace  with  an  offended  God,  is  the  voice  of  God  speaking 
within  that  soul,  and  reiterating  that  great  truth  :  "  Without 
the  shedding  of  blood  is  no  remission."  Hence  the  Psalmist, 
in  our  context,  could  not  be  held  down  to  the  intimations 
concerning  the  Messiah  in  the  scenes  of  nature  or  in  the  ex- 
periences of  the  unaided  mind,  but  rose  to  that  law  which 
abounded  with  types  and  prophecies  of  atoning  love.  '  More 
to  be  desired  is  this  law  than  gold,'  exclaims  the  Psalmist. 
It  must  be  so,  for,  says  an  Apostle :  "  The  law  is  our  school- 
master, to  bring  us  unto  Christ."  "  The  testimony  of  the 
Lord  is  sure,"  adds  the  Psalmist.  It  must  be  so :  for  it  is 
the  testimony  concerning  Him  who  is  declared  by  the  Apostle 
to  be  "  the  end  of  the  law,"  and  who  has  abeady  come  to 
"  magnify  the  law  and  make  it  honorable."  Christ  is  the 
result  to  which  all  the  prophets  and  all  nature  point.  That 
star  which  guided  the  wise  men  to  the  place  where  the  young 
child  lay,  was  but  an  illustration  of  the  end  for  which  all  the 
stars  were  made,  —  illumining  our  path  to  Him  who  was 
the  Babe  of  Bethlehem,  and  is  now,  as  he  was  then,  the  Re- 
deemer for  whom,  and  by  whom,  and  to  whom  are  all  things. 
The  longer  we  listen  to  a  distant  sound,  so  much  the  more 
distinctly  do  we  hear  it ;  for  the  atmosphere  becomes  wonted 
to  it,  and  our  minds  become  expert  by  discipline  in  detecting 
the  auricular  vibrations.  So  the  longer  we  listen  to  the 
voices  of  nature,  they  become  the  more  fvill  and  rich  in  their 
expression  of  divine  truth.  Old  age  refines  the  spiritual  ear; 
and,  as  the  body  decays,  the  soul  becomes  more  and  more 
sensitive  to  the  undulations  of  the  spiritual  atmosphere. 
And  as  century  after  century  rolls  by,  the  whisperings  of  the 
Divine  Spirit  will  be  more  and  more  clearly  recognized,  and 
that  volume  of  sound  which  came  to  the  ear  of  David  from 
the  skies  by  day  and  by  night,  will  be  gaining  new  emphasis 


94  THE   REVELATION    OF    GOD   IN   HIS    WORKS. 

and  new  power,  until,  at  the  Millennium,  the  heavens  will 
declare  the  glory  of  God  so  that  all  men  shall  hear,  "  as  it 
were,  the  voice  of  a  great  multitude,  and  as  the  voice  of 
many  waters,  and  as  the  voice  of  mighty  thunderings,  saying  : 
Allelujali,  for  the  Lord  God  omnipotent  reigneth." 

If  we  believe  that  all  the  works  of  Jehovah  are  thus  har- 
monious in  proclaiming  his  excellence,  then  we  are  prepared 
for  our  fourth  remark,  that  the  Christian  Preacher  is  an  inter- 
preter both  of  nature  and  of  revelation.  One  spirit  reigns  in 
both.  The  truths  of  the  Bible  are  illustrated  by  the  phenom- 
ena of  Hfe,  and  the  phenomena  of  life  are  explained  by  the 
truths  of  the  Bible.  The  analogies  between  the  two  are 
needed  for  comprehending  the  two.  The  prophets  and  apos- 
tles vivified  their  discourses  with  these  analogies.  They  made 
the  heavens  and  the  earth  one  whispering-gallery,  collecting 
and  addressing  to  our  ear  the  voices  of  the  Most  High. 
'  And  it  shall  come  to  pass  in  that  day,  saith  the  Lord,  I  will 
respond  to  the  heavens  when  they  shall  call  upon  me,  and 
the  heavens  shall  answer  to  the  earth  when  it  calls  upon  them, 
and  the  earth  shall  listen  to  the  corn  and  the  wine  and  the 
oil  when  they  cry  unto  it,  and  they  shall  give  ear,  and  give 
sustenance  to  my  scattered  people.'  Thus  is  all  nature  alive 
and  vocal,  when  the  prophets  describe  it.  More  than  one 
folio  volume  has  been  filled  with  comments  on  the  sugges- 
tions which  have  been  gathered  from  the  myrtle,  cedar,  olive, 
willow,  palm,  and  all  trees  ;  from  the  eagle,  dove,  sparrow, 
lion,  viper,  dragon,  leviathan,  and  all  animals  ;  from  the  sil- 
ver, pearl,  jewel,  ruby,  and  all  manner  of  precious  stones ; 
from  the  wells  without  water,  clouds  without  rain,  floods, 
winds,  flaming  fire  —  all  of  them  ministers  of  God;  from 
children,  fathers,  ambassadors,  rulers,  shepherds,  trumpeters, 
soldiers,  captains ;  things  in  heaven  and  on  the  earth  and 
under  the  earth,  all  laid  under  contribution,  —  the  grave  it- 
self forced  to  give  up  its  dead  men's  bones,  to  express  and  to 
impress  some  truth  which  men  would  overlook  if  they  were 
not  startled  into  an  attentive  mood.     And  since  the  day  when 


THE    liEV ELATION    Oif    GOD    IN    HIS    WORKS.  95 

men  spake  with  tongues  of  fire  from  the  Holy  Ghost,  the 
Chrysostoms  and  the  Bernards  and  the  Jeremy  Taylors  and 
the  Whitefields  of  the  church  have  lifted  up  the  clarion  of 
the  Gospel,  and  waked  the  echoes  from  the  woodland  and  the 
mountain,  and  have  made  the  rocks  and  the  streams  resonant 
with  the  voice  of  God.  Now,  as  of  old,  it  is  the  high  office 
of  every  minister  to  gather  into  his  own  mind,  that  he  may 
diffuse  through  the  mind  of  his  people,  instructions  from  the 
sea  and  the  field,  from  science  and  from  history,  from  the 
arts  and  the  aims  of  men.  He  should  make  all  the  events 
of  life  pay  tribute  to  Him  who  governs,  as  he  created,  the 
world  for  the  church.  Philosophy  and  biography,  the  relics 
of  ancient  and  the  inventions  of  modern  time,  are  all  infe- 
rior to  evangelical  truth  ;  but  they  should  lead  the  mind  up 
to  it,  and  be  faithfully  used  as  subservient  to  it.  "  When  I 
consider,"  saith  the  Psalmist,  "  thy  heavens  —  the  moon  and 
the  stars  which  thou  hast  ordained  —  what  is  man  that  thou 
art  mindful  of  him?"  But  then,  reflecting  on  the  Man 
who  represents  the  race  emancipated  and  redeemed,  the 
Psalmist  adds :  "  Thou  hast  crowned  him  with  glory  and 
honor  ;  —  thou  hast  put  all  things  under  his  feet."  The  ma- 
terial heavens  are  but  auxiliaries  to  the  humble  preacher 
who  speaks  in  the  name  of  this  Psalmist's  Lord  and  Son. 
The  very  stars  are  but  asterisks,  referring  to  some  note  on 
the  atoning  love  which  is  the  minister's  great  theme.  The 
preacher's  body,  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made  ;  his  mind, 
which  will  declare  the  glory  of  God  when  the  material  heav- 
ens shall  have  been  folded  up  as  a  vesture ;  his  manner  of 
life,  which,  if  he  have  an  unction  from  the  Holy  One,  is  an 
epistle  from  Jehovah  to  men  ;  his  discourses,  which,  so  far  as 
they  are  true,  are  but  a  paraphrase  of  the  inspired  word  — 
all  that  he  does  and  all  that  he  is  in  fidelity  to  his  Maker, 
make  him  a  representative  of  the  Law  and  of  the  Gospel, 
and  an  exponent  both  of  nature  and  of  grace. 

And  when  he  takes  the  oversight  of  a  church  like  this, 
consecrated  with  rich  and  ancient  memories,  he  gathers  to- 


96  THE   REVELATIOJS'    Vi:    Gvh    I.N    Ulb    WORKS. 

gether  all  the  voices  of  the  past,  and  echoes  them  as  the 
present  voice  of  God  to  his  people.  Standing  in  this  pulpit, 
he  recalls  the  prayers  which  have  been  offered  here,  one  of 
them  celebrated  throughout  the  Christian  world  as  an  illus- 
tration of  prevailing  entreaty.  He  recounts  the  influences 
which  have  flowed  from  members  of  this  church  over  men 
who  have  affected  the  destiny  of  empires.  He  reiterates  the 
counsels  of  those  godly  pastors,  whose  natural  voice  is  not 
heard  now,  and  there  is  no  speech  nor  language  coming  audi- 
bly from  their  tombs  ;  but  their  real  words  are  still  going 
out  to  the  ends  of  the  world.  He  recites  the  records  of  this 
church,  as  it  began  its  alms-deeds  more  than  a  hundred 
years  before  our  Republic  had  a  place  among  the  indepen- 
dent nations  of  the  earth.  He  describes  the  future  progress 
of  this  church,  if  it  remain  true  to  its  ancient  promise  ;  for 
so  it  will  continue  its  beneficence  hundreds  of  years  after  the 
present  dynasties  of  the  world  shall  have  died  away ;  for,  in 
the  history  of  a  church  like  this,  century  uttereth  speech  to 
century,  and  generation  showeth  knowledge  to  generation ; 
and  though  it  be  a  small  republic,  it  may  remain  unharmed 
and  intact,  though  all  the  civil  institutions  around  it  sink 
into  oblivion.  All  these,  and  more  than  these  hallowed  re- 
membrances, will  the  minister  of  this  people  utter  forth 
until  the  stones  of  this  ancient  edifice  "  shall  cry  out  of  the 
wall,  and  the  beam  out  of  the  timber  shall  answer  "  them ; 
the  pews,  as  well  as  the  pulpit,  declaring  the  glory  of  Him 
who  has  promised  to  guide  the  children,  as  he  guarded  the 
fathers  in  Israel. 

With  what  emphasis,  then,  must  our  brother  who  takes 
his  great  office  now  and  here,  repeat  the  inference  which  the 
royal  Psalmist  himself  appended  to  the  words  of  our  text : 
"  Who  can  understand  his  errors  2  Cleanse  thou  me  from  secret 
faults.  Keep  hack  thy  servant  also  from  presumptuous  sins ; 
let  them  not  have  dominion  over  me :  then  shall  I  be  upright,  and 
I  shall  be  innocent  from  the  great  transgression.  Let  the  words 
of  my  mouth,  and  the  meditation  of  my  heart,  he  acceptable  in 
thy  sight,  0  Lord,  my  Strength,  and  my  Redeemer.''^ 


THE  POWER  OF  THE   GOSPEL.' 


ROMANS    I.    16. 


BOR  I  AM  HOT  ASHAMED  OF  THE  QOSPEL  OF  CHRIST,  FOR  IT  18  THE  POWER  OF  GOD 
UNTO  SALVATION  TO  EVERT  ONE  THAT  BELIEVETH. 

The  gospel  of  Christ  comprehends  the  record  of  his  active 
as  well  as  his  passive  obedience.  His  virtues  were  essential 
to  the  efficacy  of  his  sufferings.  His  redemptive  mission 
presupposes,  and  thus  involves,  his  personal  character.  His 
atonement  is  not  separate  from,  but  is  Jtmiself  in  his  humili- 
ating acts,  especially  in  his  final  sacrifice.  Therefore  the 
gospel  of  Christ  comprehends  the  narrative  of  all  his  words 
and  deeds, — pre-eminently  of  all  his  pains, — of  their  meaning, 
of  their  worth,  of  their  results.  The  results  of  his  death  are 
a  part  of  his  history ;  for  he  designed  and  is  now  securing 
them.  The  worth  of  his  deeds  and  pains  is  a  part  of  his 
history ;  for  it  is  inseparable  from  his  voluntary  union  of 
the  finite  with  the  infinite.  The  meaning  of  his  life  and 
death  is  a  part  of  his  history ;  it  is  the  soul  of  which  his 
individual  works  are  the  expressive  body. 

In  the  most  general  as  well  as  analytical  view,  then,  the 
writer  of  our  text  affirms  that  he  is  not  ashamed  of  the 
facts  in  the  entire  life  of  Jesus ;  for  they  are  fitted,  in  the 
divine  wisdom,  to  exercise  a  controlling  influence  over  the 
mind  and  heart.  Hence  it  will  be  the  aim  of  the  ensuing 
discourse  —  an  aim  faintly  reached  —  to  specify  a  few  ele- 

1  Preached  September  28, 1852,  at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  Leonard  Swain 
[D.D.]  as  Pastor  of  the  Central  Congregational  Church  in  Providence,  R.  I. 


98  THE  POWER  OF    THE  GOSPEL. 

ments  of  the  power  exerted  on  the  human  soul  by  the  history 
of  the  Redeemer. 

And  first,  the  power  of  the  Redeemer's  history  is  seen  in 
the  number  of  sensibilities  affected  by  it.  All  the  passive 
virtues  are  fostered  in  view  of  it,  for  it  is  an  illustration  of 
patience,  fortitude,  meekness ;  but  the  active  virtues  likewise 
are  elicited  by  it,  for  it  is  the  brightest  display  of  resolution, 
courage.  We  speak  of  a  man's  temperament  as  denoting 
one  class  of  peculiarities ;  but  in  no  such  meaning  do  we 
speak  of  a  temperament  in  Jesus,  for  no  such  partial  develop- 
ment belonged  to  him.  His  was  a  temperament  in  the 
original  sense  of  the  word  —  a  perfect  attempering  of  all  the 
virtues  in  one  harmonious  and  exquisitely  balanced  whole. 
We  can  with  ease  conceive  of  one  man  who  tenderly  rocks 
the  cradle  of  a  sick  infant,  but  has  not  the  nerve  to  act  as 
a  judge,  and  pronounce  sentence  upon  a  criminal.  We  can 
imagine  another  well  qualified  to  sit  on  the  bench  of  justice, 
but  unfitted  to  sympathize  with  the  weaknesses  of  children, 
still  less  with  the  frailties  of  vicious  outcasts.  We  may  form 
a  consistent  idea  of  a  tender-hearted  mother  or  sister,  but  so 
we  do  not  think  of  her  as  leading  an  army  to  the  battle-field, 
or  executing  the  sentence  of  martial  law  upon  a  prisoner 
whom  she  loves.  But  Christ,  so  full  and  capacious  is  his 
excellence,  can  be  readily  imagined  as  cherishing  all  the 
virtues  of  a  child,  parent,  brother,  friend,  neighbor,  coun- 
sellor, man,  woman.  All  relations  in  life  are  exhausted  to 
make  out  his  character.  We  can  readily  image  him  forth  as 
taking  up  infants  in  his  arms,  and  as  braiding  a  whip  of 
small  cords  to  drive  market-men  from  the  temple ;  as  shed- 
ding tears  at  the  tomb-door  of  a  fellow-mortal,  and  as  a 
captain  of  the  militant  host,  a  conqueror  triumphing  over 
armies  which  had  been  invincible  to  all  but  him ;  as  a  com- 
panion of  publicans  and  sinners,  and  as  the  strict  judge  not 
of  one  offender  only,  but  of  all  men  ;  not  of  foes  merely,  but 
of  friends  likewise.     In  his  atoning  work  he  displayed  all 


THE  POWER  OP  THE  GOSPEL.  99 

the  virtues  of  a  peacemaker,  and  of  a  hero  who  sends  a  sword 
over  the  earth  ;  of  a  friend  so  intellectual  that  he  is  called 
our  advocate,  so  compassionate  that  he  is  called  our  inter- 
cessor, so  mild  that  he  is  called  a  lamb  —  the  Lamb;  while 
he  is  an  executive  officer  so  stern  that  he  is  called  the  lion 
of  the  tribe  of  Judah. 

It  is  because  the  virtue  of  the  Redeemer  is  thus  many- 
sided  that  it  always  possesses  a  freshness  of  interest.  No- 
where and  at  no  time  does  the  rehearsal,  how  tame  soever, 
of  his  charities  fail  to  touch  some  one  of  the  thousand  chords 
vibrating  in  the  human  bosom.  He  was  one  of  the  olden 
time  ;  but  moderns  are  interested  in  him,  perhaps  more  than 
if  he  were  a  contemporary.  He  died  a  young  man;  he 
never  outgrew  the  fervor  and  the  ingenuousness  of  young 
men ;  he  meant  to  die  in  sympathy  with  early  manhood  ; 
yet  it  is  the  aged  who  feel  the  deepest  need  of  his  guidance. 
He  lived  and  died  poor  ;  he  left  his  own  mother  to  the  charities 
of  a  disciple ;  still,  he  is  the  best  model  for  all  rich  men. 
The  charms  of  an  ordinary  person  and  an  ordinary  act  are 
soon  exhausted ;  but,  although  the  simplest  child  may  be 
ravished  with  the  love  of  Jesus,  the  most  far-seeing  philoso- 
pher will  search  in  it  for  more  and  still  more  of  that  breadth 
and  length  and  depth  and  height  and  richness  which  after 
all  pass  our  finite  study. 

It  is  because  the  adaptation  of  our  Redeemer's  history  to 
our  varying  states  is  multiform  that,  although  good  men 
sometimes  regard  themselves  as  excluded  from  the  sympathy 
of  their  brethren,  they  may  still  look  up  to  their  Redeemer 
as  enfolding  each  of  them  in  his  comprehensive  love.  Hence 
every  believer  is  apt  to  regard  the  atonement  as  made  ex- 
pressly for  himself.  Jesus  on  the  cross  has  this  peculiar 
characteristic  of  a  good  portrait,  that  he  fixes  his  eye  upon 
every  man,  every  woman,  every  child,  in  every  generation, 
who  beholds  him.  As  he  turned  and  looked  upon  Peter,  so 
he  turns  and  looks  upon  every  disciple,  rough  and  erring  as 
he  may  be.     Therefore  does  every  lowly  mind  exclaim,  My 


100  THE  POWER  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

Lord,  and  my  God  !  Therefore  does  every  stricken  penitent 
feel  that  the  atoning  blood  was  shed  for  himself  individually^ 
and  that  it  would  have  been  shed  for  him  had  he  been  the 
only  sinner  in  the  universe.  Therefore  does  the  untutored 
Indian,  as  well  as  the  deep-read  philosopher,  sing,  from  a 
full,  grieved  heart : 

"  I  saw  one  Banging  on  a  tree, 
In  agony  and  blood, 
Who  fixed  his  languid  eyes  on  me 
As  near  the  cross  I  stood. 

Sure,  never  till  my  latest  breath 

Can  I  forget  that  look ; 
It  seemed  to  charge  me  with  his  death, 

Though  not  a  word  he  spoke." 

Secondly,  the  power  of  the  Redeemer's  history  is  illustrated 
by  the  proportion  in  which  it  addresses  our  different  sensi- 
bilities. It  modifies  one  feeling  so  that  it  may  hold  the 
needful  check  upon  a  second.  It  so  adjusts  our  emotions  to 
each  other  as  to  secure  the  strongest  impulse  for  those  which 
are  the  healthiest.  Many  of  our  sensibilities  are  elevating, 
invigorating ;  they  inspire  as  well  as  strengthen  the  soul  for 
labor.  Others  are  depressing ;  they  discourage  the  mind, 
enfeeble  it.  Now  the  atonement,  while  it  expands  itself  so 
as  to  touch  the  whole  soul,  makes  its  prominent  appeal  to 
the  more  animating  emotions.  It  portrays  to  us  a  friend 
who  was  tempted  in  all  points  as  we  are  ;  who  took  upon 
himself  our  frail  nature  that  he  might  sympathize  with  our 
infirmities ;  who  was  exposed,  as  no  one  before  or  since  his 
day  has  been,  to  the  stratagems  of  principalities  and  powers, 
working  with  a  special  earnestness  during  his  troubled  mis- 
sion to  this  world.  Every  moment  of  his  life  was  critical. 
The  destinies  of  an  entire  race  were  dependent  on  each  one 
of  his  moral  acts.  Had  he  yielded  for  a  single  instant  to 
the  ingenious,  insinuating,  or  overbearing  appliances  of  the 
tempter,  he  would  have  lost  the  whole  object  of  his  errand 
on  earth.    With  this  weight  of  responsibility  pressing  down 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  GOSPEL.  101 

upon  him  and  threatening  to  overpower  him,  with  legions  of 
adverse  spirits  aiming  to  enervate  his  moral  principle,  with 
the  aids  of  heaven  suddenly  and  even  specially  withdrawn 
from  him  at  the  very  moment  of  his  signal  need,  he  pressed 
on  alone,  ever  steadfast,  true  to  his  Father's  will ;  ever  firm, 
valiant  in  his  struggle  against  temptation ;  and  he  now 
summons  us  to  imitate  him  in  resisting  the  influences  of 
evil.  Had  he  remained  sitting  on  his  throne  in  the  heavens, 
and  ever  and  anon  sending  down  messengers  who  would 
exhort  us  to  a  self-denial  which  he  himself  had  never  prac- 
tised, he  would  not  as  now  have  stirred  our  spirit  to  endure 
hardness  as  good  soldiers.  But  he  came  himself  as  our 
captain,  and  now  he  seems  to  go  with  the  standard  in  his 
hand,  and  take  and  bear  in  his  own  person  the  brunt  of  the 
conflict,  and  open  the  way  for  us  to  follow.  And  will  troops 
desert  their  commander  who  rushes  into  the  very  front,  the 
very  thickest  of  the  battle  ?  This  were  not  the  chivalry  of 
a  soldier.  It  is  to  the  soldier's  sense  of  honor  that  the 
Captain  of  our  salvation  makes  his  most  invigorating  appeal. 
When  one  of  the  French  marshals  had  vainly  endeavored  for 
some  hours  to  make  his  regiments  storm  an  Arab  fort,  from 
whose  low  walls  they  were  each  time  repulsed  by  the  terrible  fire 
of  the  enemy  within,  the  marshal  caused  three  of  his  bravest 
warriors  to  take  him  up  and  throw  him  bodily  over  the  wall. 
"  My  men  will  follow  me,"  he  said.  And  they  did  follow 
him,  and  in  five  minutes  had  cleared  the  fort  of  the  enemy. 
And  "  I  am  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ,"  for  it  is 
the  record  of  a  hero  who  himself  plunged  into  the  perils  to 
which  he  called  his  followers.  These  perils  he  encountered 
so  that  he  might  offer  heaven  to  us  freely,  generously ;  and 
so  he  asks  of  us,  what  it  were  meanness  to  refuse,  that  we 
accept  heaven  itself,  without  money  and  without  price.  Thus 
does  he  touch  our  gratitude  —  a  motive-power  the  deepest 
perhaps  in  its  working,  and  the  very  last  to  fail.  This  grati- 
tude involves  and  induces  joy;  the  evangelical  spirit  is 
distinctively  Imoyant,  and  the  joy  of  the  Lord  is  our  strength. 


102  THE  POWEB  OP  THE  GOSPEL. 

Simple  despair  is  weakness ;  mere  terror  turns  the  man 
pale ;  but  trust  in  Jesus  keeps  these  depressing  emotions 
just  where  they  should  be  —  subordinate.  It  does  not  extir- 
pate,—  that  were  unwise,  —  but  it  does  regulate  all  the 
enfeebling  sentiments.  It  nerves  the  timid  spirit  for  ex- 
ploits. "  This  is  the  victory  that  overcometh  the  world,  even 
our  faith."  Strong,  resolute  are  the  men  whoso  hearty  motto 
is,  We  love  God,  because  he  first  and  so  loved  us.  That  is  a 
healthy  character  which  is  formed  not  by  compunction  alone, 
nor  by  hope  alone,  but  by  the  commingling  of  penitence  for 
sin  with  assurance  of  its  being  forgiven.  The  faith  illumines 
what  the  grief  deepens,  and  both  the  sorrow  and  the  trust 
are  set  over  against  each  other  in  fit  balance  by  the  life  of 
him  who  is  the  model  of  proportion  in  all  the  virtues. 

Thirdly,  the  power  of  the  Redeemer's  history  is  seen  in 
the  fact  of  its  addressing  our  sensibilities  at  the  time  of 
their  greatest  need.  It  is  so  broad  in  its  associations  with 
both  our  duty  and  our  interest  that  it  suggests  to  the  mind 
exactly  what  is  demanded,  and  when  it  is  most  demanded. 
If  an  unwarranted  hilarity  indispose  us  for  sober  duties,  we 
are  reproved  by  the  crown  of  thorns.  If  an  unauthorized 
gloom  deter  us  from  wise  effort,  we  are  rebuked  by  the 
words,  "  In  that  hour  Jesus  rejoiced  in  spirit,  and  said,  I 
thank  thee,  0  Father."  He  who  was  meek  and  lowly  is 
suggested  to  us  by  our  pride.  Our  self-confidence  reminds 
us  of  him  who  prayed  with  strong  crying  and  tears.  When 
the  indignation  of  Robert  Hall  was  once  inflamed  in  a  debate, 
he  left  the  circle  of  his  opposers,  hastened  to  his  window, 
and,  smiting  on  his  breast,  repeated  and  reiterated  the 
entreaty,  "  Lamb  of  God,  Lamb  of  God,  calm  my  perturbed 
spirit." 

It  is  in  our  dilapidated  state,  when  our  feelings  are  most 
susceptible,  that  the  character  and  work  of  Christ  make  their 
most  effective  appeal.  He  comes  with  resistless  strength 
to  the  soul  fainting  through  want  of  him,  and  he  thus  leads 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  GOSPEL.  103 

captivity  captive.  It  is  after  a  lengthened  reflection  on  our 
sins  that  our  spirit  is  melted  within  us  like  wax,  so  that  the 
image  of  Jesus  may  be  enstamped  upon  it.  Precisely  in  the 
instant  of  terror,  when  the  affrighted  one  stretches  forth  his 
bands  for  some  sure  stay,  the  arm  of  Jesus  is  held  out  close 
to  the  hands  just  ready  to  receive  it.  No  sooner  has  the 
widow  felt  the  last  breath  of  her  earthly  protector,  than  she 
leans  on  the  side  of  him  who  was  not  sent  save  to  the  weary 
and  troubled  and  lost  ones  of  the  house  of  Israel.  Here  is 
the  expansiveness  of  his  excellence,  that  he  is  the  dearest 
when  our  chosen  friends  foBsake  us,  as  his  disciples  forsook 
him  and  fled.  This  is  the  elasticity  of  his  grace,  that  it 
stretches  out  the  farthest  when  we  are  in  our  extremity  of 
gloom.  Versatile  and  opportune  must  have  been  his  love ; 
so  many  a  sunburnt  slave  has  felt  himself  to  be  a  freeman 
under  its  power,  so  many  a  student  has  been  healed  of  his 
mental  diseases  under  its  gentle  sway,  so  many  a  seaman 
on  his  night-watch  has  turned  his  eye  to  his  Redeemer  as  to 
his  guiding  star,  so  many  a  sick  man  has  been  revived  by  it 
as  by  a  breath  of  air  upon  his  parched  brow,  so  many  a 
dying  penitent  has  been  enlivened  by  it  and  amid  his  faint- 
ness  of  body  has  seemed  to  be  marching  to  his  grave  like  a 
soldier  in  the  hour  of  triumph.  The  timeliness  of  the 
Saviour's  aid  in  giving  us  the  greater  peace  when  we  have 
the  intenser  need  of  it,  has  made  our  Christian  life  a  paradox ; 
and  we  are  portrayed  by  the  sacred  pencil  "  as  unknown,  and 
yet  well  known ;  as  dying,  and  behold  we  live  ;  as  chastened, 
and  not  killed ;  as  sorrowful,  yet  always  rejoicing ;  as  poor, 
yet  making  many  rich ;  as  having  nothing,  and  yet  possessing 
all  things."  And  Jesus  Christ  is  at  one  time  our  physician ; 
at  another,  our  sunlight ;  here,  a  tree  with  healing  leaves ; 
there,  a  fountain  with  refreshing  streams ;  sometimes  our 
nutriment,  our  bread,  meat ;  sometimes  our  stimulus,  the  wino 
making  the  heart  glad  ;  now,  a  resting-place  for  us ;  then,  a 
comfort  for  us,  even  as  a  lily  or  a  rose ;  here,  the  head  from 
which  our  life  comes ;  there,  our  strength,  our  very  life 
itself. 


104  THM  POWER  OP  THE  GOSPEL. 

Fourthly,  the  power  of  the  Redeemer's  history  is  seen  iu 
the  fact  that  it  communicates  truth  in  the  form  of  a  personal 
favor.  It  insinuates  right  doctrine  into  the  mind  by  smoothing 
the  passage  through  the  heart.  When  our  missionaries  heal 
the  sick  in  any  barbarian  tribe,  they  prepare  the  way  for 
unfolding  the  gospel  to  the  relieved  sufferer.  The  apostles 
wrought  miracles  for  their  hearers,  and  thus  opened  an 
avenue  through  which  the  truth  might  glide  into  the  affec- 
tions of  the  father,  mother,  brother,  and  sister  who  had  their 
dead  restored  to  them.  But  our  Redeemer  lived  for  us,  and 
he  died  for  us.  His  comprehensive  charities  associate  them- 
selves with  all  his  truth,  and  commend  it  to  our  grateful 
love.  We  choose  to  believe  in  the  divinity  of  Christ;  for 
this  qualifies  him  to  work  out  for  us  an  infinite  redemption, 
to  be,  just  what  our  souls  need,  an  almighty  Saviour.  We 
are  willing  to  confess  our  entire  sinfulness  by  nature ;  for 
this  gives  emphasis  to  the  mercy  of  him  who  died  for  our 
cleansing.  Why  should  we  not  admit  our  need  of  regenera- 
tion ?  for  this  illustrates  the  value  of  that  death  by  which  the 
renewing  Spirit  was  purchased  for  us.  We  must  allow  the 
eternity  of  future  punishment ;  for  this  magnifies  the  grace 
of  him  who  bore  its  equivalent  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree. 
Shall  we  revolt  at  the  suspension  of  our  interests  upon  the 
first  Adam,  while  he  is  a  type  of  the  second  Adam,  who  has 
more  than  restored  the  ruins  of  Eden  ?  Can  any  man  com- 
plain of  the  divine  sovereignty  exercised  by  him  who  searches 
out  the  fatherless  children,  the  lost  sheep,  the  forsaken,  the 
tearful,  the  weak,  the  sick  ?  We  are  predisposed,  there  is 
no  logical  fault  in  our  preferring,  to  believe  every  doctrine, 
stern  as  it  may  be,  which  sets  in  bold  relief  the  love  of  a 
friend  dying  for  us  while  we  were  his  enemies,  and  because 
we  were  his  enemies.  That  atoning  love  refines  the  point 
and  smooths  the  edge  of  all  truths,  opens  and  lubricates  the 
way  for  them  to  slide  into  the  soul,  which  in  excluding  them 
would  wrong  itself,  and  which  insures  its  own  honor  by  a 
faith  in  the  most  humiliating  revelations.     Therefore  is  it 


THE   POWER   OP   THE   GOSPEL,  105 

the  general  voice  of  history,  that  if  a  man  believe  in  the  full 
meaning  of  Christ's  death  he  will  cherish  a  faith  in  the 
entire  gospel.  For  the  sake  of  one  truth,  the  source  of  his 
chief  refreshment,  he  welcomes  all  related  truths,  adverse  as 
they  may  be  to  his  self-esteem  and  self-will. 

Fifthly,  the  power  of  the  Redeemer's  history  is  seen  in  its 
vivifying  the  truth  by  sensible  images.  It  conveys  the  most 
abstract  lessons  in  a  visible  form.  It  exposes  doctrines  in  a 
picture.  Therefore,  although  it  can  task  all,  it  need  tax 
none.  Although  it  may  instruct  by  a  demonstration,  it  may 
also  dispense  with  proof  by  the  lucidness  of  its  diagram. 
The  human  sensibilities  are  so  made  that  truth  is  the  most 
quickly  as  well  as  deeply  impressed  upon  them  in  its  concrete 
form.  It  was  taught  first  by  history.  Children  now  learn 
it  from  narratives.  Men  attended  with  a  heartless  admiration 
to  the  eloquence  of  Chalmers  when  he  unfolded  a  philosoph- 
ical morality ;  but  their  tears  were  his  reward  just  as  soon 
as  he  held  up  the  model  of  all  virtue,  arrayed  in  the  sacri- 
ficial vestments.  The  Greenlander  listened  with  the  coldness 
of  the  ice  around  him  to  the  exact  ethics  which  were  explained 
as  clearly  as  the  moonbeams  illumining  his  path;  but  he 
melted  at  the  words  of  the  Moravian  telling  of  Gethsemane. 
Into  the  dens  of  the  German  barbarians  was  sent  the  story 
of  the  Lamb  of  God  who  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world ; 
and  the  stern  warrior,  who  would  have  blunted  his  mind 
against  all  logic,  was  softened  by  the  piteous  tale ;  and  while 
weltering  in  his  own  blood  on  the  field  of  carnage,  he  raised 
his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  thought  of  the  cross,  and  smiled,  and 
died  in  peace.  Amid  the  faintings  of  tlie  last  hour  a  man 
has  no  strength  for  performing  a  dialectical  process ;  but  he 
has  strength  enough  to  feel  the  eloquence  of  Jesus  hanging 
on  the  tree.  The  hard  worn  laborer  is  not  fitted  to  end  his 
toilsome  day  with  abstruse  meditations ;  but  he  is  fitted  to 
rest  himseK  by  leaning  on  the  bosom  which  sustained  the 
beloved  disciple.     There  are  instances  on  record  —  two  at 


106  THE  POWER  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

least  —  of  old  men,  old  ministers,  who  had  outlived  their 
mental  powers,  had  forgotten  the  kindnesses  and  the  faces  of 
their  friends,  forgotten  their  own  names  even,  and  when  asked 
whether  they  remembered  anything  at  all,  replied  that  they 
could  call  to  mind  one  Jesus  Christ,  who  was  dead,  but  rose 
again,  and  now,  as  they  have  always  heard,  has  their  names 
written  on  the  palm  of  his  hand.  "  I  am  the  truth,"  said 
Jesus  —  the  truth  personified,  its  evanescent  features  made 
tangible,  its  airy  spirit  embodied.  Not  in  vain  for  the  human 
intellect  was  the  buffet  of  the  Jew  upon  the  face  of  the  meek 
Redeemer.  Not  in  vain  for  the  intellect,  as  well  as  feelings, 
were  the  crown  of  thorns,  the  nail,  and  the  spear ;  for  all 
these  sharp  instruments  have  delineated  upon  our  iron 
hearts  a  scheme  of  doctrine  which  cannot  be  worn  away. 
Men  may  forget  much ;  but  they  will  never  forget  the  sub- 
limest  truth,  taught  in  the  simplest  form  by  one  who  was 
himself  an  embodied  charity,  and  whose  whole  life  was  one 
lengthened  interposition  for  our  eternal  welfare.  And  I, 
saith  Jesus,  "  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men  unto  me." 
In  the  moral  world,  though  not  in  the  material.  Calvary  is 
an  exceeding  great  and  high  mountain,  broad  to  the  view, 
visible  in  the  farthest  horizon,  catching  the  eye  of  pilgrims 
as  they  start  on  their  perilous  way,  and  attracting  to  itself 
their  last,  lingering  gaze.  Thither  will  the  young  men  and 
the  old,  the  deaf,  the  blind,  the  lame,  the  athletic,  the  feeble- 
minded and  the  strong,  the  ignorant  and  the  learned, — thither 
will  all  the  tribes  go  up,  with  songs  and  everlasting  joy. 

Sixthly,  the  power  of  the  Redeemer's  history  is  manifested 
in  the  contrasts  which  it  presents.  Nearly  everything  that 
is  efficacious  is  made  up  of  opposing  elements.  It  is  the 
harmonizing  of  extreme  notes  in  the  gamut  which  gives  to 
music  its  spell.  The  blending  of  opposite  colors  makes  the 
canvas  breathe  as  if  life  were  in  it.  In  magnetism,  elec- 
tricity, galvanism,  the  mightiest  results  ensue  from  the  com- 
bined action  of  mutually  repellent  forces.     The  life  of  Jesus 


THE  POWER   OF   THE  GOSPEL.  107 

has  a  kind  of  magical  sway  over  us,  because  there  Hes 
wrapped  up  in  even  its  simplest  incidents  something  which 
we  did  not  expect  —  a  symmetry  of  virtue  which  never  met 
in  one  mind  before  or  since  his  day. 

In  general,  men,  even  seK-made  men,  bear  the  impress  of 
the  circle  in  which  they  move  familiarly.  Christ  appeared 
in  a  rude  age,  and  in  a  land  despised  more  than  almost  any 
other.  No  academy  or  lyceum  aided  his  upward  progress, 
yet  the  most  curious  philosophers  are  now  prying  into  his 
hidden  wisdom.  He  lingered  in  the  company  of  very  prosaic 
brothers,  James  and  Joses  and  Simon  and  Judas  ;  and  his 
sisters  —  not  even  their  names  are  preserved,  and  we  are 
inclined  to  think  that  they  were  unimaginative,  unpoetical 
Nazarenes ;  but  now  the  most  refined  poets  immortalize 
themselves  by  sketching  even  the  outline  of  his  sentiments 
in  verse.  He  spent  none  of  his  time  in  roaming  through 
galleries  of  the  fine  arts ;  but  all  the  genius  of  Raphael  and 
Guido  is  used  up  in  imparting  even  a  faint  impression  of  the 
grace  that  sat  upon  him.  He  mingled  with  men  as  their 
physician,  counsellor,  friend,  brother ;  but  still  he  lived  and 
died  indigent  and  alone.  In  the  densest  crowd  there  was  a 
vacant  circle  drawn  around  him ;  he  dwelt  apart,  like  that 
star  that  shone  aloof  from  all  other  stars,  and  no  one  could 
divine  the  meaning  of  its  rays  except  a  few  wise  men  who 
were  not  ashamed  to  lay  down  their  gifts  of  gold,  frank- 
incense, and  myrrh  before  the  child  in  the  manger. 

He  felt  an  unprecedented  reverence  for  the  Old  Testament 
and  yet  he  instituted  a  New  Testament  which  was  to  eclipse 
the  lustre  of  the  Old.  He  loved  his  Father  with  an  unpar- 
alleled devotion,  but  how  tender  was  his  love  for  men  who 
hated  both  him  and  his  Father  also.  He  was  more  sensitive 
than  any  other  mortal  to  the  honor  of  Jehovah,  but  without 
one  word  of  explanation  exposed  the  alarming  fact  that  he  was 
forsaken  in  the  hour  of  his  deepest  need.  His  abhorrence  for 
sin  was  equal  to  his  tenderness  of  compassion  for  the  sinner. 
He  was  the  most  amiable  of  mankind ;  and  he  said  to  the 


108  THE  POWEE  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

theologians  of  his  native  land :  "  Ye  serpents,  ye  generation 
of  vipers ;  how  can  ye  escape  the  damnation  of  hell  ? "  He 
was  the  mildest  and  gentlest  of  his  race  ;  but  some  of  the 
severest  denunciations  in  the  Bible  came  from  his  lips,  and 
no  preacher  has  ever  threatened  everlasting  punishment 
with  an  energy  so  truly  fearful  as  his.  He  was  modest,  but 
exclaimed  "  I  am  the  light  of  the  world."  He  was  the  very 
lowliest  of  all  men,  and  yet  he  cried  out :  "  He  that  cometh 
to  me  shall  never  hunger,  and  he  that  believeth  on  me  shall 
never  thirst."  He  lost  the  confidence  of  his  nation  because 
he  was  so  unassuming,  yet  he  went  so  far  as  to  command 
men  to  love  him.  It  were  a  little  peculiar  for  one  man  to 
require  others  to  esteem  himseK ;  but  this  man,  meek  and 
lowly,  required  of  the  whole  race,  in  all  time,  that  they  give 
him  not  homage  only,  but  affection  even; — not  mere,  but 
supreme  affection.  Strict  in  fulfilling  all  righteousness,  he 
yet  justified  his  disciples  in  plucking  the  ears  of  corn  on  the 
Sabbath.  Stern  in  avoiding  even  the  appearance  of  evil,  he 
associated  with  sinners,  publicans,  and  harlots.  Prizing  the 
virtues  of  domestic  life,  he  yet  remained  during  his  public 
ministry  without  a  home.  He  was  a  model  of  every  excel- 
lence ;  yet  what  virtuous  man,  if  he  must  feel  the  influence  of 
evil  companions,  would  dare  to  give  up  the  attractions  of 
his  own  family  and  live  without  a  home  ?  He  commanded 
"  If  thy  right  eye  offend  thee,  pluck  it  out,"  and  the  Son  of 
man  came  eating  and  drinking.  He  seemed  to  be  absorbed 
in  the  realities  of  eternity  ;  solemn  and  profound  were  his 
revelations  of  the  other  world  ;  yet  he  had  compassion  on  the 
multitude  because  they  had  nothing  to  eat.  It  is  singular, 
the  variety  of  miracles  he  performed  for  the  hunger-stricken 
of  his  race.  He  suspended  the  eternal  condition  of  men  on 
giving  a  cup  of  cold  water  to  a  disciple  ;  and  before  the  assem- 
bled universe  he  will  declare,  aggrandizing,  as  is  his  wont, 
the  little  by  a  union  with  the  great,  '  I  was  an  hungered  and 
ye  gave  me  meat,  I  was  athirst  and  ye  gave  me  drink, 
therefore  come  ye  blessed  into  the   kingdom   prepared  for 


THE  POWER  OP  THE  GOSPEL.  109 

you.'  He  had  all  the  affections  of  a  man,  and  even  cried  out 
"  I  thirst,"  at  an  hour  which  was  to  be  celebrated  through 
all  time  the  world  over  —  an  hour  when  men  of  affectation 
would  think  it  wiser  to  say  nothing  of  physical  wants  —  an 
hour  when  he  was  bearing  up  in  his  own  person  the  interests 
of  a  whole  race,  and  at  the  same  time  was  willing  to  honor  a 
bodily  sense  ;  but  all  his  corporeal  appetites  he  spiritualized 
into  a  beauty  too  delicate  for  us  to  appreciate,  and  all  the 
extremes  of  human  virtue  he  blended,  like  all  the  varying 
notes  of  the  organ,  into  one  anthem  of  harmonious  praise. 

But,  says  Napoleon  Buonaparte  '  I  know  men,'  —  as  much 
as  to  say, '  I  have  sounded  the  depths  of  men  in  court  and 
in  camp,  I  have  measured  the  littleness  of  men,  I  have 
gauged  the  hoUowness  of  men,  I  have  felt  the  weakness 
of  men,  I  have  seen  and  proved  the  end  of  all  the  capabili- 
ties of  men,  I  have  threshed  them  and  beaten  them  small 
as  the  chaff  of  the  summer  floor,  I  have  driven  them  before 
me  as  the  wind  sweepeth  the  dry  leaves  of  the  forest  —  and 
thus  I  know  men,  and  I  tell  you  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was 
not  a  man.' 

But  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  a  man,  and  this  occasions  the 
most  inspiriting  contrasts  in  his  life.  He  was  laid  in  a 
manger,  and  borne  in  the  arms  of  his  youtliful  mother,  and 
afterwards  affirmed,  "  Before  Abraham  was,  I  am."  He  was 
the  son  of  a  mechanic,  was  himself  a  carpenter,  yet  "by  him 
were  all  things  created  visible  and  invisible."  He  knew 
neither  the  day  nor  the  hour  when  the  holy  city  was  to  be 
destroyed,  but  saith,  "  I  am  he  that  searcheth  the  reins  and 
trieth  the  hearts  of  the  children  of  men,"  and  he  did  not  re- 
ject the  praise  of  his  disciple,  "Lord  thou  knowest  all  things." 
He  was  even  unable  to  carry  his  own  cross,  and  they  laid 
hold  of  a  strong  man  coming  into  the  city  out  of  the  country, 
and  compelled  him  to  relieve  the  feeble  sufferer  who  was 
then  upholding,  as  he  is  now  upholding  all  things  by  the 
word  of  his  power,  and  by  him  did  then,  as  do  now,  all  things 
consist.     He  submitted  to  the  Roman  government,  bad  as  it 


110  THE  POWER  OP  THE  GOSPEL. 

was ;  he  yielded  mute  obedience  to  Pilate  and  Herod ;  he 
wrought  a  miracle  in  order  to  pay  his  taxes  to  the  Jewish 
rulers ;  and  this  is  the  meek  sufferer  who  "  shall  come  in 
his  glory,  and  all  the  holy  angels  with  him,  and  then  shall 
he  sit  upon  the  throne  of  his  glory,  and  before  him  shall  be 
gathered  all  nations." 

There  is  a  suggestive  series  of  responses  going  to  and  fro 
between  the  prophets  of  the  Old  Testament  and  the  his- 
torians of  the  New.  The  historians  tell  us  that  the  afflicted 
man  exclaimed  in  words  meaning  far  more  than  at  first  they 
seem  to  mean :  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful,  so  that  it 
seems  as  if  I  should  die  under  my  pain.  Stay  with  me,  watch 
with  with  me,  for  I  cannot  be  left  alone.  He  went  forward 
a  few  rods,  and  fell  down  with  his  face  upon  the  ground  and 
prayed  three  several  times  in  a  mysterious  affliction,  throwing 
his  soul  on  the  naked  omnipotence  of  God  as  all  that  could 
rescue  him.  But  it  is  this  man,  overborne,  prostrate,  sobbing 
aloud,  to  whom  the  old  prophet  exclaims  in  joy  ;  "  Gird  thy 
sword  upon  thy  thigh,  0  most  Mighty,  with  thy  glory  and 
thy  majesty ;  and  in  thy  majesty  ride  prosperously,  and  thy 
right  hand  shall  teach  thee  terrible  things." 

"  And  being  in  an  agony,"  saith  the  historian,  "  he  prayed 
more  earnestly,  and  his  sweat  was  as  it  were  drops  of 
blood  falling  to  the  ground."  But  saith  the  Psalmist,  "  Thy 
throne,  0  God,  is  forever  and  ever.  Thou  lovest  righteous- 
ness and  hatest  wickedness  ;  therefore  [0]  God,  thy  God, 
hath  anointed  thee  with  the  oil  of  gladness  above  thy  fellows. 
All  thy  garments  smell  of  myrrh  and  aloes  and  cassia  out  of 
ivory  palaces,  whereby  they  have  made  thee  glad." 

"  When  the  poor  and  needy  seek  water  and  there  is  none, 
and  their  tongue  faileth  for  thirst,  I  the  Lord  will  hear  them," 
so  saith  He  who  is  ever  faithful  to  his  vows ;  and  I,  saith 
the  Psalmist,  "  I  have  been  young  and  now  I  am  old,  yet 
have  I  not  seen  the  righteous  forsaken  nor  his  seed  begging 
bread."  But  "  my  God,"  was  the  bitter  exclamation  of  him 
who  had  never  forfeited  his  Father's  promise ;  "  my  God," 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  GOSPEL.  Ill 

was  he  left  to  cry  who  had  ever  been  careful  for  his  Father's 
name,  why  are  all  these  vows  forgotten  ?  "  why  hast  thou  for- 
saken me  ?"  Here  was  a  seeming  rupture  of  the  everlasting 
covenant  which  had  been  ordered  in  all  things  and  sure. 

And  Pilate  marvelled  that  he  was  already  dead;  for  it 
was  not  usual  for  prisoners  to  die  so  early ;  even  the  thieves 
who  were  crucified  with  him  still  held  out  under  their  pains. 
And  when  he  breathed  forth  his  troubled  spirit,  he  disap- 
pointed the  hopes  of  those  who  trusted  that  it  had  been  he 
who  should  redeem  Israel.  His  enemies  said  :  He  is  gone  ;  it 
is  all  over  with  him  ;  the  last  has  now  been  heard  of  him ;  he 
is  not  only  dead  but  slain ;  nor  only  slain,  but  slain  on  the 
cross ;  nor  only  slain  on  the  cross,  but  crucified  between  two 
robbers  :  yet  this  despised  and  rejected  man  says  of  liimseK 
in  more  than  royal  words  :  "I  am  Alpha  and  Omega,  the 
beginning  and  the  ending ;  wliich  is  and  was,  and  which  is 
to  come,  the  Almighty,  the  first  and  the  last.  I  am  he  that 
liveth  and  was  dead,  and  behold  I  am  alive  forevermore." 

It  is  a  marvel  that  he  died  so  soon,  that  with  all  his  rich 
stores  of  wisdom,  he  was  continued  on  the  earth  not  more 
than  three  and  thirty  years  —  did  he  then  come  as  a  mere 
teacher  ?  —  that  with  all  his  fitness  to  be  an  example  he  re- 
mained in  public  life  not  more  than  three  years,  through 
which  he  kept  himself  hidden  in  great  part  from  the  world, 
—  did  he  live  then  as  a  mere  exemplar  ?  It  is  a  marvel 
that  he  who  came  for  the  purpose  of  giving  help  to  the  race 
needed  help  for  himseH,  and  sought  it  from  men  who  could 
not  give  it ;  that  his  Father  not  only  withdrew  the  needed 
aid  from  the  Son,  but  is  described  with  peculiar  emphasis 
as  having  smitten  him.  We  read  that  Herod  cast  John 
into  prison,  and  Saul  persecuted  the  church,  but  Jehovah 
put  his  anointed  one  to  grief,  and  it  pleased  the  Lord  to 
bruise  him  who  was  "  delivered  by  the  determinate  counsel 
and  foreknowledge  of  God."  The  more  we  contemplate  the 
man  of  sorrows  as  spending  his  life  in  want  and  ending  it 
in  dishonor,  so  much  the  more  do  we  triumph  in  him,  —  and 


112  THE  POWER   OF  THE   GOSPEL. 

his  church  conquers  by  the  sign  of  his  cross.  From  the 
fact  that  the  only  perfect  man  who  ever  lived  was  "  made 
sin,"  even  "  a  curse  for  us,"  and  that  the  shame  of  his  death 
became  his  power,  we  derive  a  new  assurance  that  he  must 
have  had  a  nature  distinct  from  the  one  which  became  so 
feeble.  He  is  the  only  being  in  the  universe  of  whom  we 
take  delight  in  thinking  that  "  by  his  stripes  we  are  healed  "  ; 
and  this  thought  adds  a  yet  more  sacred  meaning  to  the 
truth  that  he  who  atoned  for  us  is  God  blessed  forever. 

"  A  truth  so  strange  !  't  were  bold  to  think  it  true, 
If  not  far  bolder  still  to  disbelieve." 

Seventhly,  the  power  of  the  Redeemer's  history  is  developed 
in  the  fact  that  it  is  the  centre  of  so  many  and  of  such  mys- 
terious truths.  It  is  a  globe  of  truth,  and  holds  revolving 
around  it  a  constellation  of  various  and  contrasted  doctrines. 
If  Jesus  be  the  Creator  of  men  and  the  child  of  Abraham, 
then  he  is  fitted  to  be  the  Mediator  between  us  and  our 
offended  Lawgiver ;  then  we  are  in  a  brotherhood  vdth  him 
who  sitteth  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high ;  then 
the  church  is  ennobled  into  a  body  of  kings  and  priests,  the 
brethren  of  their  Lord ;  then  the  highest  dignity  of  the  soul 
is  gained  by  its  union  with  the  Messiah ;  then  this  soul  is  of 
immense  worth  ;  then  all  sin  in  such  a  mind  must  be  "  ex- 
ceeding sinful "  ;  then  it  deserves  everlasting  ruin ;  then  the 
work  of  saving  us  from  such  ruin  must  be  infinite ;  then 
there  must  be  an  atonement  made  by  one  who  exhibits  aU 
the  contrasts  of  a  divine  and  human  nature  ;  and  here  we 
come  to  the  focal  point  whither  all  the  rays  of  truth  converge. 
And  I  am  not  ashamed  of  this  central  truth. 

If  such  an  atonement  has  been  made,  then  there  must  be 
perfect  majesty  in  the  law,  purity  in  its  commands,  justice  in 
its  threatenings  ;  then  we  should  be  reconciled  to  such  a  law ; 
then  we  need  to  be  regenerated  by  the  Third  Person  in  the 
Trinity,  who  is  sent  as  a  Paraclete  by  the  Second  Person ; 
then,  requiring   such   a  regeneration,  we   must  have   been 


THE   POWER   OF  THE   GOSPEL.  113 

entirely  sinful ;  then  by  one  man  s  disobedience  many  were 
made  sinners ;  and  thus  we  come  around  again  to  our 
starting-point,  that  by  the  obedience  of  one  shall  many  be 
made  righteous.  And  I  am  not  ashamed  of  starting  from 
this  truth,  and  coming  back  to  it. 

"  For  as  in  Adam  all  die,  so  in  Christ  shall  all  be  made 
alive  "  ;  and  if  Christ  be  not  raised,  then  we  are  not  raised  ; 
and  if  we  receive  the  power  of  his  resurrection,  then  we  must 
have  felt  the  power  of  his  death  ;  and  thus,  again,  proceed 
from  this  truth  whichever  way  we  will,  we  come  back  to  it 
at  last.  And  I  am  not  ashamed  of  this  truth,  the  first  and 
the  last.  It  is  the  central  truth,  approached  from  all  points 
and  through  numberless  avenues. 

There  is  a  power  not  only  in  the  multitude  of  doctrines 
clustering  in  the  history  of  Jesus,  but  also  in  their  mysterious 
nature.  The  mind  was  made  for  mysteries.  It  has  an 
instinct  for  them.  It  looks  up  to  them,  and  round  about 
after  them.  It  is  awed,  humbled,  yet  quickened  by  them. 
From  the  very  depths  of  the  soul  comes  up  a  demand  for 
truths  that  shall  be  elevated  above  our  facile  and  perfect 
comprehension.  No  teachings  retain  our  permanent  interest 
unless  they  make  a  life-long  appeal  to  our  curiosity. 

How  can  transgressors  be  pardoned  ?  and  if  they  be, 
how  can  they  feel  repose  in  accepting  kindness  from  a 
Sovereign  whose  very  grace  they  have  disdained  ?  This  is 
the  problem  which  has  excited  the  curiosity  of  the  ages. 
Will  not  the  bounties  of  an  insulted  King  sharpen  the 
remorse  of  sensitive  men,  as  they  feel  the  baseness  of  their 
guilt?  With  a  keen  sense  of  honor,  can  they  be  at  rest 
under  the  new  burden  of  obligations  which  their  blessedness 
in  heaven  will  ever  impose  upon  them  —  obligations  which 
they  can  never  discharge,  even  by  an  eternity  of  gratitude 
and  praise  ?  How  can  they  remember  every  one  of  their 
former  sins,  and  never  shed  one  single  tear  in  view  of  them? 
The  query  has  been  raised  :  On  what  principle  can  a  merciful 
God  punish  men  forever  ?    But  there  is  a  question  stiU  more 


114  THE  POWER  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

difficult  to  answer :  On  what  principle  can  a  holy  God  ever 
save  men  from  all  their  regret  and  shame  and  remorse? 
The  mystery  of  the  atonement  is,  that  it  quickens,  purifies, 
and  at  the  same  time  stills  and  relieves  the  moral  sense,  and 
so  commendeth  God's  love  to  us  that  our  ill-desert  only 
augments  our  pleasure  in  his  forgiving  it,  and  the  great- 
ness of  our  former  sins  only  inflames  our  gratitude  to  him 
who  rejoices  to  reward  us  as  if  we  had  uniformly  obeyed 
the  law. 

Still,  the  question  remains:  How  has  this  marvel  been 
effected  ?  In  what  sense  and  way  could  he  who  wrought  out 
so  great  a  mystery  have  been  left  alone  while  working  it  ? 
Wliat  was  that  wonder  in  heaven  which  forced  him  to  exclaim, 
in  the  hearing  of  his  enemies,  that  his  own  God,  who  had 
sworn  never  to  desert  his  friends,  had  yet  deserted  him  ? 
What  were  the  feelings  of  Jehovah,  what  did  he  do,  at  the 
moment  of  and  before  that  outcry  of  the  forsaken  sufferer  ? 
How,  how  long,  wherein  did  he  manifest  such  a  displeasure 
in  view  of  our  sins  as  overwhelmed  the  Son  with  a  grief 
deeper  than  our  remorse  ?  Throngs  of  thoughts  like  these 
add  a  mysterious  sublimity  to  the  scene  in  which  the  world's 
redemption  was  wrought  out.  Oh,  could  we,  by  the  rich  blessing 
of  Almighty  God,  be  so  gifted  as  to  learn  more  of  the  particulars 
of  the  way  of  reconciling  a  poor,  rebellious  race  to  offended 
justice  !  0/i,  could  we  pry  into  the  hidden  record  of  the  events 
which  followed  each  other  in  heaven  during  those  hours  when 
the  veil  of  the  temple  was  rent  from  the  top  to  the  bottom, 
and  the  graves  were  opened,  and  the  dead  came  forth  !  Let 
not  the  Lord  be  angry,  but  we  would  ask  whether  the  songs 
of  heaven  were  still  going  on  as  aforetime  when  the  Father 
hid  his  face  from  one  who  was  inquiring  with  a  loud  voice 
for  the  reasons  —  the  prompting  and  justifying  cause  —  why 
that  face  was  hidden.  Let  not  the  Lord  be  angry ;  but  we 
long  to  know  whether  there  was  no  check  to  the  anthems  of 
the  angels  when  they  heard  the  sound  of  the  drawing  of  the 
sword  of  God  in  heaven,  and  he  lifted  it  up  against  the  man 


THE  POWER   OF  THE   GOSPEL.  115 

that  was  his  fellow,  and  said :  "  I  will  smite  the  Shepherd, 
and  the  sheep  shall  be  scattered."  Was  it  then,  as  well  as 
afterward,  that  there  was  silence  in  heaven  for  the  space  of 
half  an  hour  ?  Or  did  more  than  twelve  legions  of  angels 
hasten  down,  —  a  cloud  of  witnesses,  cohort  after  cohort, 
squadron  piled  on  squadron,  —  amazed  to  see  this  great 
sight,  the  baptism  which  the  Son  was  baptized  with,  and  how 
was  he  straitened  till  it  was  accomplished  ? 

It  is  thickly  covered  over  from  our  sight.  Aptly  does  the 
historian  say,  "  There  was  darkness  over  all  the  land,  from 
the  sixth  hour  unto  the  ninth."  A  veil  was  drawn  before 
the  windows  of  heaven  which  remaineth  untaken  away  until 
this  present ;  and  the  secrets  of  the  atoning  sacrifice  are 
locked  up  amid  the  treasures  of  the  knowledge  of  God,  which 
things  the  angels  desire  to  look  into,  but  now  are  they  hidden 
from  even  the  eyes  of  the  angels ;  which  things  we  shall  be 
learning  more  distinctly  and  more  gladly  while  our  minds 
are  expanding  in  their  compass  and  rising  to  loftier  heights 
in  knowledge  through  our  eternal  life.  In  the  darkness  of 
these  mysteries  is  the  hiding  of  the  power  of  Jehovah. 

These  mysteries  take  a  hold  upon  the  intellect  of  man 
when  he  would,  if  he  could,  escape  from  them.  There  is  no 
remission  for  our  intellectual  wants  without  the  shedding  of 
blood.  The  cravings  of  our  religious  nature  can  be  appeased 
by  no  other  name  given  under  heaven  than  the  name  of  the 
Lamb  slain.  So  long  as  man  retains  either  the  mental  or 
the  moral  organization  which  Heaven  gave  him,  he  must  be 
sensitive  to  the  power  of  this  doctrine  :  that  the  comprehen- 
sive Being  who  illustrated  all  truth,  even  as  every  science 
reflects  light  upon  him ;  that  he  who  adorned  all  the  virtues, 
even  as  every  grace  was  radiant  in  him ;  that  he  whom  all 
the  angels  of  God  worshipped  was  willing  to  pay  the  price  in 
order  that  we  may  obtain  the  purchase,  to  wear  the  thorns 
in  order  that  we  may  wear  the  crown.  The  interest  in  other 
themes  will  soon  evanesce ;  but  this  truth,  so  long  as  the 
human  sensibilities  endure,  wiU  retain  its  power  to  cheer  the 


116  THE  POWER  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

soul  in  poverty,  in  persecution,  under  bereavement,  in  sick- 
ness, at  the  hour  of  d^ath ;  for  at  that  saddening  hour  for 
■which  our  services  on  the  Sabbath  and  in  the  sanctuary  ought 
to  be  preparing  us  more  and  more,  the  weary  traveller  whose 
life  has  been  baptized  with  the  spirit  of  Jesus  is  divinely 
helped  to  look  higher  than  to  his  own  sins,  and  to  exclaim : 
"  I  have  fought  a  good  fight,  I  have  finished  my  course,  I 
have  kept  the  faith  "  —  yet  not  I,  but  the  grace  of  Christ  that 
is  in  me  ;  and  now  "  I  am  persuaded  that  neither  death  nor 
life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things 
present,  nor  things  to  come ;  neither  height,  nor  depth,  nor 
any  other  creature  shall  be  able  to  separate  me  from  the 
love  of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord  "  ;  for  I  am  not  now,  in  my 
last  hours,  as  I  was  not  in  my  brightest  days,  —  no,  nor  ever 
shall  be,  —  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ ;  for  it  is  the 
power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God  to  every  poor  dying 
sinner  that  believeth. 


UNION   WITH    CHRIST/ 


I  CORINTHIANS    VI.    17. 

BUT  HE  THAT  18  JOINED  TTNTO  THE  LORD  IS  ONE  SPIEIT. 

In  these  words  we  are  taught  that  believers  in  Christ  are 
one  spirit  with  him.  In  various  other  scriptures,  and  in 
forms  diversified  as  by  a  kaleidoscope,  we  are  taught  the  same 
truth.  It  is  plain  to  all  that  real  believers  have  the  same 
spirit  with  their  Lord,  but  it  appears  enigmatical  to  some  that 
they  are  the  same  spirit  with  him.  They  have  not  a  numerical 
union  of  essence  with  him,  the  same  which  exists  between  the 
persons  in  the  Trinity.  Our  Saviour  used  the  pronoun  "  I " 
as  denoting  himself  personally  united  with  the  Father.  We 
may  apply  to  him  the  pronoun  "  Thou,"  as  denoting  himself 
personally  united  with  the  Holy  Ghost.  But  we  cannot 
speak  of  Christians  as  having  this  complete  and  personal 
oneness  with  their  Redeemer.  In  what  relations,  then,  are 
good  men  joined  to  their  Lord,  and  one  spirit  with  him? 
The  object  of  the  present  discourse  is  to  answer  the  question. 
In  what  relations  are  good  men  united  with  Christ  ? 

1.  The  first  relation  to  be  named  is  this  :  They  have  in 
some  degree  the  same  specific  nature  and  character  with 
their  Lord.  Partially  they  are  one  with  him  in  the  kind 
of  their  powers  and  their  moral  character.  There  is  some- 
thing  essential   in  their  oneness  with  him ;  for  they  have 

1  A  sermon  preached  October  24,  1854,  at  the  Ordination  of  Rev.  George  P. 
Fisher  [D.D.],  as  Pastor  of  the  Church  iu  Yale  College,  New  Haven,  Conn. 


118  UNION   WITH   CHEIST. 

an  essential  resemblance  to  him.  He  was  made  flesh  and 
dwelt  among  us.  The  angels  have  no  physical  resemblance 
to  the  offspring  of  David.  We  are  united  to  him  bj  a  link 
which  they,  or  at  least  the  larger  part  of  them,  have  never 
felt.  Perhaps  we  are  the  only  class  of  minds  who  will  in 
heaven  be  embodied  like  the  Redeemer.  That  he  might  be 
"  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities,"  "  it  behoved 
him  to  be  made  like  unto  his  brethren  "  in  his  human  spirit 
as  well  as  body  —  not  only  to  eat  and  drink,  sleep  and  wake, 
but  also  to  learn  and  forget,  to  rejoice  and  grieve,  as  we  do. 
An  inferior  degree,  indeed,  but  still  a  like  sort  of  union,  have 
we  with  his  divine  essence.  This  is  the  honor  put  upon  our 
minds.  We  can  apprehend  but  little  of  his  intelligence,  save 
as  it  is  an  infinite  extension  of  an  intelligence  like  our  own. 
We  can  form  no  definite  idea  of  his  powers,  except  as  they 
are  similar  in  nature,  though  infinitely  superior  in  measure, 
to  the  faculties  which  he  has  given  us.  But  it  may  be  replied 
that  with  this  interpretation  Christ  is  one  with  all  men, 
unrenewed  as  well  as  renewed.  In  a  special  way,  however, 
is  he  united  with  his  followers ;  for  their  views  of  truth  are 
like  his,  their  emotions  in  regard  to  it  are  like  his,  their 
aims  on  account  of  it  are  like  his.  They  love  what  he  loves, 
hate  what  he  hates,  rejoice  in  that  which  pleases  him,  regret 
all  that  offends  him ;  and  their  love,  hatred,  joy,  and  dis- 
pleasure have  the  same  nature,  as  well  as  the  same  object, 
with  his  intenser  feelings.  Benevolence  is  their  spirit,  and 
his  likewise ;  they  are  one  then  in  breathing  the  same 
breath.  So  the  apostle  often  describes  not  only  the  consti- 
tution, but  also  the  character,  of  godly  men  (lience  they  are 
called  godly)  as  an  image  of  the  divine  ;  and  every  likeness 
has,  in  some  regard,  a  unity  with  the  object  it  represents. 
Pointing  to  Caesar's  image,  men  cry  out,  That  is  Caesar. 
The  enraptured  visitor  says  of  Pompey's  statue.  That  is 
Pompey.  We  would  not  deface  the  portrait  of  a  friend  ;  we 
should  feel  therein  as  if  we  offered  insult  to  the  friend  him- 
self.    Whoso  hurteth  the  least  of  those  that  believe  in  Jesus 


UNION   WITH    CHRIST.  119 

doeth  a  wrong  to  the  pure  original  of  which  they  are  the 
miniatures.  So  high  is  the  dignity  of  this  union  between 
themselves  the  types,  and  him  the  prototype,  that  if  you 
persecute  believers  he  says,  "  I  am  Jesus,  whom  thou  perse- 
cutest."  He  is  the  same  person  with  Jehovah,  and  still,  be- 
cause he  is  the  best  of  men  "  who  e'er  drew  earth  about  him," 
he  is  not  ashamed  to  call  us  brethren.  We  are  less  inclined  to 
term  him  our  elder  brother  than  he  is  inclined  to  be  and  to  be 
termed,  "  the  first  begotten  among  many  brethren."  He  chose 
to  have  the  same  instincts,  the  same  wants  which  we  have, 
and  the  same  frailties,  so  far  as  he  could  have  them  without 
sin.  And  he  urges  us  even  yet,  how  often  fruitlessly,  to 
'  let  the  same  mind  be  in  us  which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus,' 
and  to  have  Christ  himself  formed  within  us.  Living  in  this 
possession  of  him,  for  us  "  to  live  is  Christ,"  as  "  to  die  is 
gain."  Thus  does  the  wonderful  prayer  of  our  Lord  begin  to 
be  answered  in  his  followers,  —  "  that  they  all  may  be  one  ; 
as  thou.  Father  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they  also  may 
be  one  in  us" ;  "  that  they  may  be  one  even  as  we  are  one,"  ^ 
"  may  be  joined  together  in  one  will  and  mind  and  judgment." 

2.  There  is  a  second  relation  in  which  good  men,  being 
thus  of  kith  and  kin  to  their  Lord,  are  united  with  him : 
They  have  derived  from  him  the  beginnings  of  all  which 
they  have  and  which  is  worth  possessing.  Often  is  the 
Redeemer  called  the  fountain  of  all  our  worth ;  and  the 
rivulet  has  one  nature  and  one  history  with  the  spring  from 
which  it  flows.  Not  only  was  our  earliest  existence  drawn 
out  from  him,  but  our  new  spirit  was  derived  from  him,  and 
it  conjoins  us  with  him  in  that  point  of  his  origin.  Our  wise 
thoughts,  which  are  a  part  of  our  very  selves  as  good  men, 
rose  from  his  suggestion.  Our  right  impulses,  which  go  to 
make  us  what  we  are,  sprang  from  his  prompting.  Our 
entire  holiness,  which  is  the  essence  of  our  new  character, 
was  first  breathed  into  us  by  his  inspiration.  Our  earliest 
1  Johnxvii.  11,  20-23. 


120  UNION   WITH   CHRIST. 

faith,  being  his  gift  as  well  as  our  act,  is  a  link  between  our 
souls  and  him.  He  exclaims,  "  I  am  the  light  of  the  world," 
and  again  he  assures  his  friends,  "  Ye  are  the  light  of  the 
world."  Because  one  of  these  sayings  is  true,  the  other  is 
true  likewise  ;  for  the  virtue  of  his  friends,  being  only  a  ray 
from  his  own  virtue,  has  the  same  kind  of  resplendence  with 
his  own,  as  the  reflected  beams  of  the  moon  are  identified  with 
the  radiance  of  the  sun. 

One  does  not  fully  appreciate,  until  one  has  narrowly 
searched  out,  the  large  variety  of  methods  in  which  the 
sacred  penmen  labor  to  include  Christ  and  his  church  in 
one  system  of  cause  and  result ;  the  cause  involving  a  cer- 
tainty of  the  result,  and  the  result  absorbed  in  the  energetic 
cause.  Believers  live  ;  but  Christ  is  their  life.  Believers 
shall  rise  from  their  graves  ;  Christ  is  their  resurrection. 
They  have  a  virtue  which  is  their  own  free  choice  and 
their  chief  worth;  but  this  virtue  in  its  primitive  rise,  in 
its  earliest  spring,  is  the  result  of  Christ's  spirit.  As  the 
different  members  of  the  human  body  have  one  and  the  same 
vital  force,  so  the  different  members  of  Christ's  mystical 
body  have  one  and  the  same  principle  of  life,  the  same  Holy 
Spirit  which  was  given  to  Christ  without  measure,  and  is 
given  to  us  as  really  as  to  him,  but  in  a  more  limited  degree.^ 
How  often  are  good  men  said  to  be  built  upon  Christ ;  for  his 
atonement  is  the  basis  of  their  love,  hope,  joy.  He  is  the  foun- 
dation of  stone,  therefore  the  sure  foundation, —  other  founda- 
tion for  their  peace  can  no  man  lay, — the  tried  stone,  the  chief, 
and  upholding  all  their  goodness,  the  precious  corner-stone,  the 
head  of  the  corner,  taking  the  friction  of  adverse  influences, 
and  binding  the  different  walls  together  into  one  temple. 
Now,  the  foundation  is  a  part  of  the  temple,  an  ornament  of 
it,  the  strength  of  it,  indispensable  to  it,  one  with  it.  Archi- 
tecture is  an  expression  of  truth ;  and  the  edifice,  if  con- 
formed to  the  laws  of  the  Master-builder  in  heaven,  bodies 
forth  one  idea,  utters  in  silent  but  perennial  music  a  single 

1  See  Rom.  viii.  9-11,  and  text  quoted  on  p.  121  below. 


UNION   WITH    CHRIST.  121 

but  that  a  memorable  word.  The  cathedral  sinks  its  crypt- 
stones  deep  in  the  earth,  and  raises  its  spires  toward  the 
stars,  and  stretches  out  its  long-drawn  aisles,  and  expands 
its  lofty  arches,  and  preserves  the  echo  of  its  vaults,  and 
with  the  strong  pillars  that  sustain  it  and  the  delicate  tracery 
that  adorns  it  still  makes  an  undivided  impression  on  the 
eye,  ear,  mind,  and  is  ever  remembered  as  a  unique  structure, 
pointing  and  reaching  and  seeming  to  be  striving  toward  one 
end  —  the  worship  of  him  who  inhabiteth  the  praises  of 
Israel.  So  good  men  are  styled  the  temple  or  house  of  God.^ 
They  are  the  materials  of  a  breathing,  speaking,  impressive 
architecture.  As  living  stones  they  are  built  up  one  spiritual 
house,  built  up  in  Christ  and  established  in  the  faith ; 
cemented  and  builded  together  in  him  for  a  habitation  of 
God  through  the  Spirit ;  that  Spirit  being  the  breath  which 
permeates  the  habitation ;  and  as  the  atmosphere  is  diffused 
through  the  material  edifice,  just  so  really  does  the  Spirit 
of  the  Lord  pervade  his  more  refined  temple  —  a  temple 
which  hath  foundations,  for  it  rests  upon  Him,  the  stone  of 
the  corner,  in  whom  all  the  building,  fitly  framed  together, 
groweth  as  a  thing  of  life  into  a  holy  temple  in  the  Lord  ; 
his  energy  penetrating  its  hard  framework,  and  moving  the 
very  stones,  if  need  be,  to  cry  out  in  his  praise  ;  his  electing 
love  conspicuous  in  the  placing  and  the  shaping  of  its  com- 
ponent parts  ;  his  atoning  grace  lying  deep  underneath  it, 
and  shining  up  through  it  and  over  it  and  all  around  it ; 
being  at  once  its  firmness  and  its  beauty,  and  combining  his 
church  and  his  decrees  and  his  providence  into  one  radiant 
system  —  the  oneness  consisting  in  the  symmetry  of  all  the 
parts,  their  dependence  on  one  infinite  will  which  enlivens 
and  conjoins  them  all. 

3.  These  thoughts  anticipate,  in  part,  a  third  relation  in 
which  believers  arc  united  with  their  Lord :  They  are  the 

'  1  Cor.  iii.  16, 17  ;  vi.  19,  20 ;  2  Cor.  vi.  16  ;  Eph.  ii.  19-22 ;  Heb.  iii.  6  ;  1  Pet. 
ii.  4,5. 


122  UNION  WITH   CHBIST. 

objects  on  which  he  continually  and  specially  acts.  Where 
he  acts,  there  he  is :  his  agency  is  his  presence.  He  is 
everywhere  in  the  sense  of  operating  everywhere.  We  can 
never  flee  from  his  intimacy.  If  we  make  our  bed  in  the 
depths  of  the  earth,  behold,  he  is  there,  but  in  a  method  far 
inferior  to  that  in  which  he  inhabiteth  the  hearts  of  his 
friends.  In  an  emphatic  way  does  he  reside  in  the  humble 
and  contrite  ones,  when  he  moves  them  to  tremble  at  his 
word.  His  peculiar  influence  upon  them  is  his  peculiar 
residence  within  them,  and  they  receive,  as  if  it  were  a  part 
of  themselves,  his  mind.  When  he  makes  his  truth  impres- 
sive upon  us  he  makes  us  his  temple,  and  unites  himself  with 
us  as  the  soul  is  united  with  the  body.  Our  humility  is 
deepened  by  his  greatness  inwardly  appreciated  ;  our  thank- 
fulness glows  on  account  of  his  generosity  felt  in  our  souls. 
We  are  made  hopeful  by  his  atoning  grace  as  it  shines  in 
our  hearts.  We  are  courageous,  because  he  is  entertained 
in  our  minds  as  the  hope  of  glory.  By  the  virtue,  then, 
which  belongs  to  us  as  our  free  act,  and  to  him  as  it  is  the 
effluence  of  his  word  and  Spirit,  we  have  a  common  property 
with  him,  and  are  joined  with  him  in  one  mind.  We  aim  to 
interweave  our  character  into  the  same  web  with  his  ;  our 
reverence  being  the  subject  of  which  his  magnanimity  is 
the  object,  our  faith  being  the  movement  toward  him  who 
attracts  us  by  his  grace.  We  choose  to  sink  our  own  agency 
into  his  authorship ;  thereby  we  envelop  our  humble  efforts 
with  the  divine  honor,  and,  in  the  apt  phrase  of  the  apostle, 
"  our  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God,"  and  will  be  covered  up 
in  him  when  ho  shall  come  to  be  glorified  in  his  saints,  and 
to  be  admired  in  all  them  that  believe. 

We  lose  the  right  idea  of  our  oneness  with  Christ  when 
we  separate  him  from  his  truth.  "They  who  think  of 
him,"  says  Augustine,  "  contain  him."  They  partake  of 
his  truth  which  is  himself  viewed  aright,  and  welcoming  his 
truth  into  their  hearts,  they  welcome  him ;  for  the  truth  is  not 
a  mere  form  of  words,  it  is  an  essence :  '  Christ  is  the  truth.' 


UNION  WITH   CHRIST.  123 

And  as  his  friends  contain  him  in  themselves,  so  he  contains 
them  in  himself ;  for  he  knows  them,  preserves  them, 
nourishes  them,  teaches  them,  quickens  them  , —  so  is  that 
Scripture  true,  "  God  dwelleth  in  them,  and  they  in  God." 
It  is  not  a  vain  fancy ;  it  is  the  true  philosophy,  "  ye  are  not 
in  the  flesh,  but  in  the  spirit,  if  so  be  that  the  Spirit  of  God 
dwell  in  you."  "  I  am  the  living  bread  which  came  down  from 
heaven  "  ; —  abstract  thinkers  say  that  the  truth  enters  and 
becomes  identical  with  the  soul;  but  the  truth  is  not  a 
mere  dry  proposition,  it  is  the  object  around  which  that 
proposition  is  drawn  out, —  "lam  the  living  bread,"  —  my 
person  as  it  was  mocked  and  slain  ;  —  this  living  truth  if  any 
man  will  receive,  he  shall  live  also  ;  but  unless  ye  accept,  as 
a  part  of  yourselves,  this  bread  of  atonement,  my  flesh,  ye 
have  no  life  in  you,  for  my  flesh  is  nutriment  indeed,  and  he 
who  lovingly  draws  into  his  soul  the  true  meaning,  the  rich 
intent  of  my  mission, —  he  partakes  of  me, —  blends  himself 
with  me  in  one  spirit ;  morally  he  is  transubstantiated  into 
me,  and  I  into  him  ;  we  are  consubstantiated  with  each 
other  in  the  Christian  life,  which  is  all  a  sacrament.  Our 
Lord  might  have  told  us  in  scholastic  phrase,  I  am  the  mys- 
terious being  whose  attributes  and  works  win  your  confidence, 
but  my  attributes  are  myself  endued  as  I  am ;  my  works 
are  myself,  working  as  I  do  ;  your  confidence  is  not  an  entity 
apart  from  yourselves,  it  is  yourselves  confiding  ;  and  your- 
selves confiding  in  me  are  conjoined  with  me,  as  I  receive 
that  confidence.  There  can  be  no  affection  without  an 
object  and  an  agent ;  you  are  the  agents,  I  am  the  object. 
So  far  as  I  am  trusted  by  you,  I  am  the  complement  of  you. 
You  are  dependent  on  me  for  the  strength  which  cometh 
from  your  trust.  So  are  you  joined  unto  me,  as  the  object 
and  the  author  of  your  love.  But  our  Saviour,  instead  of 
adopting  this  abstract  form,  has  taught  us,  "  I  am  the  vine, 
ye  are  the  branches  ;  unless  ye  abide  in  me,"  and  open  the 
avenues  of  your  mind  to  my  inflowing  instruction,  keep  the 
passage  clear  for  the  motives  which  may  circulate  from  me 


124  UNION  WITH   CHRIST. 

through  your  whole  system,  you  will  wither  away  severed 
from  the  vitalizing  stock  ;  but  if  ye  abide  in  me  and  keep  your 
hearts  open  to  my  doctrine,  waiting  to  drink  in  my  influence, 
you  shall  grow  up  as  engrafted  boughs  of  a  life-giving  plant, 
and  being  incorporated  in  one  organism  with  me,  ye  3hall 
bear  much  fruit.  Our  fruit,  however,  the  fruit  of  the 
branches,  continues  to  be  the  fruit  of  the  vine.  All  our 
piety  is  an  offshoot  from  the  main  stock.  If  we  offer  a  true 
prayer,  it  is  because  he  has  inspired  it ;  after  we  have  offered 
the  prayer,  he  recommends  it  in  his  interceding  office  to  God  ; 
again  we  pray  that  his  intercession  may  be  availing,  but  it 
is  he  who  inspires  that  prayer  and  intercedes  in  behalf  of  it, 
and  then  answers  it,  and  thus  our  acts  and  his  act  are  ever 
doubling  into  each  other.  At  the  sacramental  table  we  hold 
in  our  hands  the  broken  bread,  it  is  a  symbol  of  the  atone- 
ment ;  he  holds  out  before  the  eye  of  our  faith  his  hand 
pierced  for  us,  it  is  a  symbol  of  the  atonement ;  we  take  the 
cup  which  is  the  sign  of  redemption,  he  points  to  his  side 
which  is  the  sign  of  redemption.  He  gives  and  we  take, 
and  by  this  interaction  are  we  joined  to  the  Lord,  and  are 
one  spirit  with  him. 

4.  This  unceasing  outflow  of  goodness  from  our  Redeemer 
to  ourselves  suggests  a  fourth  relation  in  which  we  are 
united  to  him :  We  love  him,  and  he  loves  us.  "  He  that 
dwelleth  in  love,"  saith  an  apostle,  "  dwelleth  in  God."  It 
is  a  remark  of  Schiller  that  we  are  possessors  of  a  virtue, 
authors  of  an  act,  discoverers  of  a  truth  at  the  moment  when 
we  entertain  a  loving  reception  of  them.  It  is  a  familar  say- 
ing, that  whenever  we  voluntarily  acquiesce  in  any  act,  we 
virtually  perform  it ;  so  far  as  we  choose  the  moral  charac- 
ter of  another,  we  transfer  that  character  to  ourselves.  In 
our  measure  we  possess  the  attributes  with  which  we  heartily 
.sympathize.  In  this  sense  the  humility  of  our  Eedeemer 
becomes  ours  if,  and  when,  and  so  far  as  we  apprehend  it, 
and  adopt  it  as  our  chosen  virtue.     In  whatever  degree  we 


UNION   WITH   CHRIST.  125 

know  and  then  love  his  self-denial,  in  the  same  degree  do  we 
accept  it,  appropriate  it  to  ourselves  as  our  own.  Let  the 
measure  be  narrow  as  it  may  be,  still  if  we  expand  our  hearts 
in  any  narrow  measure,  so  as  to  comprehend  in  our  real 
preference  any  portion  of  his  goodness,  in  that  same  measure 
is  his  goodness  fairly  reckoned  ours.  Thus,  in  more  than  one 
sense,  is  the  righteousness  of  Christ  imputed  to  the  believer. 
"As  many  as  have  been  baptized  into  Christ  have  put  on 
Christ."  Now  to  be  baptized  into  Christ  suggests  the  idea 
of  being  introduced  into  his  mind,  and  to  put  on  Christ  sug- 
gests the  idea  of  being  invested  with  him  as  with  a  garment. 
Therefore,  if  we  participate  in  his  spirit,  we  appear  like  him, 
and  personate  him. 

But  infinitely  more  than  we  love  our  Redeemer  does  he 
love  us,  and  all  that  he  loves  in  us  he  regards  as  his  own. 
Our  virtue  is  imputed  to  him,  for  it  is  truly  his,  for  he  elicits 
it,  attracts  it,  approves  it,  accepts  it.  As,  then,  our  excellence 
belongs  to  him,  and  as  his  excellence  belongs  to  us,  in  what- 
ever degree  we  adopt  it  as  our  own,  we  have  a  joint  interest 
with  him  in  the  same  character,  and  in  this  sense  we 
are  joined  together  with  him  in  one  spirit.  All  this  is  no 
anomaly  among  the  phenomena  of  mind,  it  is  no  arbitrary 
technical  arrangement,  it  is  natural  in  the  religious  sense 
of  the  word  while  it  is  supernatural  in  the  highest  sense.  It 
is  a  normal  tendency  of  love,  as  such,  to  strive  after  a  one- 
ness between  the  loving  minds.  Strong  friends  are  eager  to 
regard  themselves  as  absorbed,  lost,  in  each  other.  Their 
mutual  language  is  like  that  of  the  Son  affirming  his  intimacy 
with  the  Father :  "  All  mine  are  thine,  and  thine  are  mine." 
"  My  friend  being  dead,"  says  Augustine,  "  I  live  but  half  a 
man."  He  made  a  part  of  myself.  The  fibres  of  my  system 
were  entwined  around  him,  just  as  they  grow  into  my  own 
being.  Many  a  bereaved  one  has  felt  his  very  soul  to  be 
divided,  his  whole  person  to  be  sawn  asunder,  the  half  of  it 
borne  away  by  death,  and  himseK  left  as  a  bleeding  wreck  of 
wliat  was  once.     If  it  be  human  nature  for  the  inconstant 


126  UNION   WITH   CHRIST. 

friends  who  meet  in  this  jarring  world  to  speak  of  their 
union  with  each  other,  how  much  more  pertinent  as  well  as 
forcible  is  the  word,  that  all  who  are  joined  in  close  adhesion 
to  the  Lord  are  one  spirit  with  him ;  for  he  has  encompassed 
them  with  an  everlasting  love,  and  has  never  lost  them  for 
one  moment  from  his  affections  ;  —  never  once, —  not  even 
before  the  morning  stars  sang  together.  For  ere  he  had 
laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth,  did  he  enfold  his  friends 
just  as  firmly  in  his  grace  as  he  envelops  them  at  this  present. 
Then  he  delighted  in  them.  Then  he  was  near  them.  Then 
he  caused  them  to  dwell  in  him.  Then  had  they  no  other 
existence  than  in  his  mind  and  in  his  heart.  Then  they  were 
involved  in  his  thoughts.  Then  they  were  wrapt  up  in  his 
affections.  And  by  no  means  less  fully  comprehended  in 
himself  are  they  now  than  if  they  had  never  received  a 
separate  existence.  They  are  now  the  expressions  of  his 
eternal  ideas.  They  are  now  the  indices  of  his  everlasting 
purpose.  All  the  good  which  is  in  them  is  his  love  mani- 
fested in  their  individual  life.  There  are  no  unions  on  earth 
which  are  more  than  faint  emblems  of  the  oneness  between 
him  and  the  souls  who  are  the  mementos  of  his  early 
thoughts.  The  glowing  pencil  of  inspiration  seems  to  tremble 
when  it  sketches  the  picture  of  this  intimacy,  and  portrays 
him  as  the  bridegroom,  and  his  church  as  the  bride,  and 
they  twain  are  one.  Never  shall  they  be  divorced  from 
each  other,  as  in  the  divine  idea  they  were  never  parted. 
What  we  so  hardly  and  anxiously  term  the  perseverance  of 
the  saints,  as  if  it  were  a  mere  desperate  struggle  against 
adverse  forces,  is  more  than  once  presented  in  the  Bible  as 
their  remaining  ever  encircled  with  the  attractions  of  his 
grace  and  allured  toward  the  solemnities  of  heaven  as  to  a 
nuptial  feast.  If  the  bridegroom  will  leave  father  and  mother 
for  the  sake  of  his  espoused,  still  more  willing  was  He  who 
betrothed  the  church  unto  himself  to  forsake  all  the  glories 
of  his  Father's  house  that  he  might  become  one  with  the 
objects  of  his  love,  covenanted  to  him  from  everlasting.     And 


UNION   WITH    CHRIST.  127 

as  they  have  been  endowed  with  the  richest  tokens  of  his 
grace,  they  also  will  leave  children  and  friends,  brother  and 
sister,  father  and  mother,  so  they  may  please  him  whom 
they  love,  because  he  first  and  so  loved  them.  Who  shall 
separate  us  ?  —  nothing  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the 
love  of  him  who  says  that  he  who  "  toucheth  you,  toucheth  the 
apple  of  his  eye."  The  love  of  Christ  to  his  friends  envelops 
them  in  him ;  their  love  to  him  involves  their  implicit  faith 
cleaving  to  him,  and  thus  they  are  often  characterized  as 
being  in  him,  living  and  dying  in  him.^ 

5.  There  is  one  more,  a  fifth,  relation  in  which  believers  are 
united  with  their  Lord:  They  have  somewhat  of  the  same 
destiny  with  him.  The  very  nature  of  their  love  to  him 
secures  a  sympathetic  participation  in  all  that  he  has  suffered 
or  is  to  enjoy ;  and  he  has  unfolded  the  character  of  his 
love  to  us  in  having  already  taken  upon  him  our  infirmities, 
and  in  that  farewell  prayer,  "  I  will  that  they  also  whom 
thou  hast  given  me  be  with  me  where  I  am." 

The  sacred  volume  suggests  a  marked  parallel  between  the 
history  of  the  Redeemer  and  that  of  his  friends.  Was  he  a 
man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief  ?  We  know  the 
fellowship  of  his  sufferings.  I,  says  Paul,  "  fill  up  that  which 
is  behind  of  the  afflictions  of  Christ,  in  my  flesh  " ;  as  if  the 
afflictions  of  Christ  were  to  be  completed  by  another  self. 
Was  our  Exemplar  called  to  give  up  his  life ?  —  "so  many 
of  us  as  were  baptized  into  Jesus  Christ  were  baptized  into 
his  death";  we  die  daily;  we  yield  up  our  sinful  spirit,  we 
part  with  our  old  desires,  we  bid  farewell  to  our  evil  habits. 
Did  he  expire  on  the  cross  ?  we  are  conformed  unto  that 
death ;  we  are  crucified  to  the  world,  crucified  with  him  and 
for  him ;  we  groan  being  burdened  ;  we  are  in  heaviness 
and  continual  sorrow ;  our  death  unto  sin  is  attended  with 
anguish  and  shame  like  that  of  the  cross  ;  we  are  pierced  by 

1  See  Rom.  viii.  1  ;  1  Cor.  xv.  18 ;  2  Cor.  v.  17  ;  xii.  2 ;  Gal.  i.  22 ;  Col.  i.  2  ; 
1  Thess.  iv.  Ifi;  1  Pet.  v.  14,  and  other  passages  too  numerous  to  be  cited. 


128  UNION   WITH   CHRIST. 

our  sharp  remembrances ;  we  feel  the  puncture  of  remorse  ; 
the  whole  head  is  sick  and  the  whole  heart  is  faint  under  our 
discipline  for  transgression.  Was  he  laid  in  the  grave  ?  there- 
fore we  are  buried  with  him  by  baptism  into  death.  Was 
he  raised  from  the  tomb  ?  —  "as  Christ  was  raised  up  from  the 
dead  by  the  glory  of  the  Father,  even  so  we  also  should  walk 
in  newness  of  life."  The  world  is  represented  as  a  garden 
planted  with  the  bodies  of  the  saints.  Our  Redeemer's  body 
is  termed  the  first  fruits,  because  first  risen — the  sample  and 
earnest  of  the  future  harvest, —  it  being  all  one  harvest,  as  all 
the  ears  of  corn  in  the  field  are  one  grain,  and  all  the  kernels 
of  wheat  the  same  rich  fruit.  "  For,"  saith  the  apostle,  "  if 
we  have  become  united^  with  him  by  the  likeness  of  his 
death,  we  shall  be  also  by  the  likeness  of  his  resurrection." 
In  a  limited  degree,  in  as  far  as  with  a  clear  view  and  a 
pure  heart  we  sympathize  in  his  sorrows,  they  are  in  more 
than  one  sense  imputed  unto  us ;  and  our  pains  in  a  full 
measure,  even  as  fully  as  he  cherished  a  fellow-feeling  with 
them, —  and  who  can  fathom  the  depths  of  his  commise- 
ration ?  "  for  he  hath  borne  our  griefs  and  carried  our 
sorrows," — they  are  all  imputed  to  him  who  made  his  atone- 
ment in  so  making  our  pains  his  own,  as  himself  to  express 
all  which  our  endless  ruin  could  have  signified.  And  in 
this  reciprocated  sympathy,  he  assuming  our  troubles  and 
we  sharing  in  his,  we  have  a  distinct  bond  of  union  with 
him.  We  must,  indeed,  never  forget  that  there  was  a  mean- 
ing in  the  stripes  laid  upon  him,  which  is  beyond  our  joint 
experience ;  but  the  mercy  expressed  in  these  stripes,  that 
is  our  common  property.  There  was  an  amount  of  dishonor 
felt  under  the  pressure  of  that  crown  of  thorns,  which  we 
can  neither  endure  nor  compute  ;  but  the  glory  of  the  crown, 
—  that  reaches  and  belongs  to  us.  The  price  which  he 
paid  exceeds  all  that  we  can  pay  or  know,  but  the  boon  which 
he  purchased  for  so  large  a  price, —  that  is  ours.  We  have, 
then,  a  joint  possession  of  rich  experiences  involved  in  his 

'  Grown  together. 


UNION   WITH   CHBIST.  129 

cross,  and  after  mingling  for  a  season  in  some  of  its  sorrows, 
we  shall  be  partners  of  its  honor  as  long  as  we  abide  in 
him.     This  fellow-heirship  with  him  is  a  oneness  with  him. 

We  fail  to  estimate  the  degree  in  which  his  atonement 
assimilates  our  destiny  to  his  own,  because  we  keep  our 
vision  confined  within  the  limits  of  our  earthly  life.  If  we 
could  be  raised  to  some  height  of  spiritual  vision,  and  behold 
the  entire  course  marked  out  for  us  to  pursue  in  the  promised 
land  ;  if  our  ever  progressive  virtue  could  be  drawn  from  the 
future  to  this  point  of  time,  and  appear  all  at  once  before 
our  distinct  gaze  ;  if  all  the  praises  that  we  shall  offer,  and 
all  our  high  and  solemn  musings,  and  all  our  lofty  conversa- 
tions with  patriarchs,  prophets,  and  apostles,  and  our  com- 
munion with  the  Father  and  Christ  himself  and  the  Holy 
Ghost, —  if  all  the  yet  untold  but  ever  augmenting  glories 
with  which  we  are  to  be  encircled  could  be  brought  hither- 
ward,  and  pass  one  by  one  in  their  magnificent  array  before 
our  eyes,  then  we  might  feel  the  emphasis  of  those  inspired 
words  :  "  We  are  all  partakers  of  that  one  bread,"  the  body 
of  our  Redeemer ;  having  been  partakers  of  his  sufferings 
we  shall  be  partakers  of  his  glory,  partakers  of  Christ,  par- 
takers of  the  divine  nature.  We  could  then  catch  the  elo- 
quence of  the  fact  that  all  good  men  in  Christ  are  with  him 
denominated  Christ  himself.^  Within  the  distinct  apprehen- 
sion of  the  Spirit  who  dictated  these  expressive  words,  all  our 
future  progress  is  spread  out.  At  one  glance  he  comprehends 
our  never  ceasing  rise  in  virtue  and  honor.  He  perceives  the 
minutest  scenes  of  our  eternal  history  all  coiled  up  in  our 
present  faith,  as  forests  lie  hidden  in  the  buried  seed ;  and  he 
regards  us  as  having  lived  already  in  the  elective  plan  of 
Heaven.  Previously  to  our  regeneration  was  our  being 
endeared  to  him  in  his  eternally  predestinating  love.  Subse- 
quent to  our  regeneration  stretches  out  the  line  of  our  progress 
in  virtue  and  joy.  Between  that  past  decree  and  this  pros- 
pective joy  is  but  a  narrow  isthmus  of  frailty.     Thus  if  we  be 

1  iCor.  xii.  12;  Gal.  iii.  16. 


130  UNION   WITH   CHRIST. 

elect  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  then  saved  in  Christ  Jesus,  we  pass 
through  two  extended  scenes  of  honor  :  that  of  the  purposed 
adoption  into  his  family,  and  that  of  the  historical  blessedness 
in  heaven ;  and  there  is  but  one  point  in  which  we  lose  our 
interest  in  the  Redeemer.  For  a  little  time,  when  the 
believer  had  been  born  of  a  woman,  he  continued  estranged 
from  the  waj  of  peace  ;  but  his  life  of  sin  flew  away  like  an 
eagle  hasting  through  the  air.  For  a  small  moment  did  the 
Lord  forsake  him,  but  with  great  mercies  and  an  everlasting 
kindness  did  he  inwardly  and  outwardly  reward  him.  Now 
the  omniscient  mind,  compressing  into  a  single  view  this 
varied  expanse  of  the  believer's  history,  describes  him  as  he  is 
on  the  large  whole,  and  in  this  comprehensive  view  "  he  that 
sanctifieth  and  they  who  are  sanctified  are  all  of  one,"  —  one 
kind,  one  aim,  one  honor,  —  and  the  Redeemer's  affluent 
promise  is  fulfilled :  '  To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  give  to  sit 
with  me  on  my  throne,  even  as  I  overcame  and  am  set 
down  with  my  Father  on  his  throne.'  Although  he  is  the 
monarch,  and  they  are  subject  unto  him,  yet  as  he  shares 
their  sensibilities,  he  lets  them  share  his  crown.  He  ap- 
pointeth  them  to  be  judges  over  the  angels, —  kings  and 
priests  unto  God.  One  of  his  last  words  as  Mediator  shall 
be,  "  Inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you," — and  we  shall 
reign  in  life  by  him.  "  If  we  endure  we  shall  also  reign  with 
him."  He  may  endow  us  with  regal  offices,  but  even  if  he  do 
not,  he  will  introduce  us  into  a  royal  state.  Our  excellence 
of  character  will  be  itself  a  kingdom  ;  virtue  if  perfect,  must 
be  imperial.  He  who  is  the  brightness  of  his  Father's  glory 
radiates  his  light  upon  all  around  him.  It  is  reflected  from 
them  and  they  shine  in  it  as  their  own  for  ever.  He  enjoys 
his  honor  the  more,  because  he  distributes  it  among  his 
friends.  If  his  character  be  loved,  ours  will  be  in  its  appro- 
priate measure  ;  for  our  thoughts,  emotions,  and  preferences 
shall  be  entirely  like  his,  so  far  as  our  even  then  attenuated 
faculties  can  stretch  themselves  upward  toward  him.  Through 
grace  we  shall  have  fulfilled  the  command :  '  Be  ye  perfect, 


UNION   WITH   CHRIST.  131 

as  your  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect.'  If  his  works  engage 
the  interest  of  the  universe,  we  shall  attract  the  universal 
interest ;  for  "  we  are  his  workmanship,  created  in  Christ 
Jesus,"  —  our  souls  planned  and  formed  and  redeemed 
and  renewed  and  sanctified  by  him,  and  illustrating  his 
praiseworthy  skill  and  grace.  If  his  atoning  office  be  revered, 
we  shall  participate  in  the  honor  ;  for  we  shall  be  evidently 
set  forth  as  the  objects  of  his  atoning  love,  the  identical 
jewels  which  he  came  down  to  gather  up.  His  compassion 
will  be  adored  ;  then  we  shall  be  a  spectacle  to  the  very 
angels  of  heaven,  for  we  are  the  once  forlorn  children  whom 
he  pitied.  His  care  over  his  friends  will  be  celebrated  in 
triumphal  psalms ;  so  we  shall  be  sought  out  and  wondered 
at  as  the  chosen  objects  of  that  care.  Thus  our  history  will 
be  identified  with  his.  Our  biography  will  be  the  record  of 
his  tenderness ;  our  lowest  estate  will  be  the  remembrancer 
of  his  magnanimity  ;  our  past  frailties  will  be  the  memento 
of  his  wonderful  condescension  ;  our  joy  will  be  inseparable 
from  his  glory,  and  his  glory  cannot  be  fully  revealed  save 
through  our  joy.  Intertwined,  then,  with  the  minutest  re- 
cords of  our  life  are  the  lines  of  his  adorable  history  ;  inter- 
penetrated by  his  honor  is  every  new  phase  of  our  future 
enjoyment.  Such  a  prospect  of  such  a  union  seems,  I  know, 
to  be  visionary.  We  might  have  anticipated  a  climax  which 
'  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered 
into  the  heart  of  man';  but  in  the  very  jubilee  of  our  hope, 
—  rising,  as  hope  is  wont  to  rise,  above  the  realities  of  life, — 
we  should  have  never  adventured  upon  a  hint  of  such  an 
eternal  weight  of  glory,  had  it  not  been  the  fulfilment  of  that 
prayer,  in  itself  too  noble  to  be  left  without  a  response  of  un- 
utterable richness  :  "  Neither  pray  I  for  these  alone,  but  for 
them  also  which  shall  believe  on  me  through  their  word ;  that 
they  all  may  be  one  as  thou  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee, 
that  they  also  may  be  one  in  us  "  (the  union  in  the  sacred 
Trinity  l)eing  an  illustration  of  our  Redeemer's  union  with 
his  church)  ;  "  and  the  glory  which  thou  gavest  me  I  have 


132  UNION   WITH   CHRIST. 

given  them,  that  they  may  be  one,  even  as  we  are  one :  I 
in  them,  and  thou  in  me,  that  they  may  be  made  perfect  in 
one." 

If  all  these  things  be  true,  my  brethren,  we  see  the  strength 
and  dignity  and  blessedness  of  the  pure  church.  The  pure 
church  is  no  mere  outward  organization,  but  is  the  com- 
pany of  the  Redeemer's  friends,  banded  together  in  holy 
love.  In  their  union  lies  their  strength.  Their  benevolence 
consolidates  them.  They  fortify  each  other.  "  A  spirit  who 
loves  himself  alone  is  an  atom  floating  in  the  immeasurable 
void."  So  wrote  Schiller ;  but  his  thought  had  been  already 
expressed  by  a  more  familiar  writer,  who  portrays  selfish 
men  as  isolated,  and  therefore  helpless,  — '  clouds  without 
water,  carried  about  with  winds; — wandering  stars,  to  whom 
is  reserved  the  blackness  of  darkness  forever.'  Among 
good  men  there  are,  indeed,  superficial  diversities  ;  but  there 
is  a  fundamental,  which  will  be  an  endless,  unity.  They 
maintain  differing  theories,  while  they  cling  to  the  same 
doctrine.  They  hold  out  varying  doctrines  on  less  important 
themes,  while  they  hold  fast  the  same  essential  truth.  They 
disagree  on  the  truth  in  form,  while  they  coincide  in  sub- 
stance. "  There  can  be  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,"  writes  the 
apostle,  "  there  can  be  neither  bond  nor  free,  there  can  be  no 
male  and  female  ;  for  ye  all  are  one  man  in  Christ  Jesus." 
Their  sin  has  been  one,  their  peril  has  been  one,  their  rescue 
has  been  one,  they  have  one  habit  of  thought  and  converse,  the 
same  love  of  prayer  and  praise,  one  and  the  same  interest  in 
things  present  and  in  things  to  come.  For  not  only  shall  they 
be,  but  they  are  now,  invigorated  by  a  union  with  the  just 
men  made  perfect.  There  is  a  golden  cord  —  invisible,  but 
not  unfelt  —  held  in  the  hands  of  all  the  redeemed  on  earth 
and  in  heaven,  and  closely  attaching  itself  to  the  throne  of 
the  Eternal.  Those  who  are  now  struggling  with  sin  and 
those  who  are  at  rest  from  all  their  hard  toils,  the  weary 
ones  who   yet   contend   against  their   inward  foes  and  the 


UNION   WITH    CHRIST.  133 

■emancipated  spirits  who  wear  their  garlands  of  triumph,  — 
all  these  make  but  one  communion,  and  one  song  employs 
the  lips  of  saints  and  angels,  in  one  city,  and  that  the  city  of 
God  ;  for  all  the  orders  of  mind  in  heaven,  and  all  the  chosen 
ones  of  earth  are  gathered  into  the  love  of  Him  who  inter- 
twines with  each  other  all  who  are  united  in  Christ.  So 
strong  are  the  sympathies  between  good  men  and  their 
Lord,  that  inspiration  describes  them  as  forming  one  single 
person  —  Jesus  Christ  being  the  Head,  and  his  friends  the 
body,  and  all  together  being  one  man ;  the  vital  force  dis- 
tributed through  the  system  from  the  Head ;  all  the  members 
by  joints  and  liands  having  nourishment  ministered  to  them ; 
all  being  knit  together,  and  compacted  by  that  which  every 
joint  supplieth.  Of  this  comprehensive  person,  held  fast  by 
these  firm  tenures,  there  is  one  soul.  The  inner  life,  ani- 
mating the  Head,  quickens  the  members.  We  are  stirred  by 
the  single  mind  which  was  given  to  Jesus  without  measure. 
The  identical  Spirit  which  descended  upon  him  at  his  bap- 
tism and  anointed  him  for  his  mission  is  the  Spirit  which 
abides  in  us  ;  and  so  vital  is  our  relation  to  him  that,  in 
the  words  of  John  Calvin,  "  the  Son  of  God  regards  himself 
as  in  a  certain  sense  imperfect,  unless  he  is  joined  to  us ;  the 
body  is  not  complete,  unless  it  be  filled  out  with  the  mem- 
bers "  ;  and  "  we,"  says  the  apostle,  emboldened  by  his  warm 
and  intimate  affection,  "  we  are  members  of  his  body,"  pro- 
ceeding from  his  flesh,  and  his  bones ;  we  are  "  the  fulness  of 
him  that  filleth  all  in  all."  i 

The  strength  of  the  church  illustrates  its  dignity  and  bles- 
sedness. The  Redeemer  is  its  root,  and  the  tendency  of  a 
root  is  to  develop  itself  in  the  tree.  The  Redeemer  is  its  life, 
and  the  law  of  life  is  to  unfold  itself  in  the  vivified  mass. 
The  true  church  is  so  exalted  as  to  be  like  a  star  in  the 
firmament  shining  with  clear  proof  of  the  mysteries  of  the 
Redeemer's  love.     Our  very  weakness  is  a  foil  to  set  off  his 

1  See  Rom.  xii.  5;  1  Cor.  x.  16,  17;  xii.  12;  Eph.  i.  22,  23;  iv.  4-6;  v. 
29,  30. 


134  UNION  WITH  CHRIST. 

strength,  our  very  frailties  are  a  sign  of  his  condescension, 
our  littleness  is  a  correlate  of  his  magnanimity.  He  would 
not  have  extended  his  grace  to  its  utmost  limit  unless  we 
had  gone  so  far  from  him ;  our  remoteness  illustrating  the 
elasticity  of  his  interest.  And  will  he,  regarding  his  church 
as  an  ornament  of  his  administration,  forget  its  welfare  ? 
How  will  he  leave  the  members  of  his  own  body  to  be  bruised  ? 
"If  a  man  love  me"  (how  little  soever),  "he  will  keep  my 
words,  and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and"  (as  a  consequence) 
"  we  will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him." 
And  to  those  whom  he  has  chosen,  his  abode  in  them  is  itself 
blessedness.  They  may  be  scattered  by  persecution,  but  they 
shall  not  be  left  alone  ;  for,  says  the  apostle,  "  if  that  which 
ye  have  heard  from  the  beginning  shall  remain  in  you,  ye 
also  shall  continue  in  the  Son  and  in  the  Father."  They 
may  be  imprisoned ;  but  in  their  silent  cell  they  are  members 
of  him  who  will  say  :  "  I  was  in  prison,  and  ye  visited  me  " ; 
and  at  the  last  day  he  will  look  upon  all  the  kindness  shown  to 
his  friends  as  intended  for  himself  in  them.  They  may  walk 
in  the  fiery  furnace  of  affliction ;  but  there  shall  be  a  form 
with  them  like  the  form  of  the  Son  of  Man,  who  saith :  '  In 
all  their  afflictions  I  am  afflicted.'  And  when  they  pass 
through  the  valley  of  death,  he  shall  be  there,  and  they  shall 
rest  secure  in  him ;  and  they  shall  not  fall  asleep  alone,  but 
shall  sleep  in  Jesus.     And  when  they  shall  lie  in  their  graves, 

"  Eacli  in  Ms  narrow  cell  forever  laid," 
the  union  shall  remain  unbroken.  For  as  the  body  is  united 
to  the  soul,  and  the  soul  is  united  to  Christ,  so  the  body  itself 
is  united  to  Christ  by  this  intervening  link ;  for  "  know  ye 
not,"  saith  the  apostle,  "that  your  bodies  are  the  members 
of  Christ?"  And  as  in  Adam  all  die,  so  because  they  are  in 
Christ  Jesus  shall  all  be  made  alive  ;  for  the  whole  will  move 
with  its  parts.  For  as  the  tree  bending  under  a  mighty  wind 
brings  down  all  its  branches  with  it,  but  when  the  calmer 
moments  arrive  it  resumes  its  erect  position,  bearing  up  with 
it  its  twigs  and  pendent  fruit,  so  does  he  who  is  the  Tree  of 


UNION  WITH   CHBIST.  135 

Life  raise  up,  when  lie  rises,  all  the  boughs  and  the  blossoms 
that  live  and  grow  in  him.  And  as  the  body  of  a  man,  when 
it  moves,  goes  forward  as  a  unit,  so  will  the  church,  which  is 
the  Lord's  body,  rise  up  with  him  as  its  Head,  and  enter  at 
once  into  his  joy.  Our  pious  fathers  were  comforted  with 
the  hope  that  "  the  souls  of  believers  are  at  their  death  made 
perfect  in  holiness  and  do  immediately  pass  into  glory,  and 
their  bodies  being  still  united  to  Christ,  do  rest  in  their 
graves  till  the  resurrection."  For  all  the  dead,  small  and 
great,  they  who  sleep  amid  the  corals'  of  the  sea,  and  they 
whose  bones  lie  upon  the  mountain  top,  if  they  died  in  the 
Lord,  shall  ever  remain  in  the  Lord.  Not  one  of  them  shall 
be  forgotten.  His  eye  shall  rest  upon  them  ever.  They 
shall  hear  his  voice.  They  will  not  know  the  voice  of  a 
stranger ;  but  his  voice  they  shall  know,  and  at  its  bidding 
they  shall  rise,  —  an  exceeding  great  army,  —  and  shall  go 
up  in  triumph  to  him  who  will  be  all  in  all,  and  will  abide 
in  his  saints,  who  will  also  abide  in  him. 

One  of  the  holiest  men  trained  in  this  college  has  remarked : 
"  If  the  happiness  of  the  creature  be  considered,  as  it  will 
be,  in  the  whole  of  the  creature's  eternal  duration,  with  all 
the  infinity  of  its  progress,  and  infinite  increase  of  nearness 
and  union  to  God,  —  in  this  view  the  creature  must  be  looked 
upon  as  united  to  God  in  an  infinite  strictness."  ^  The 
thought  lying  at  the  basis  of  these  words  may  well  add 
inspiration  to  the  man  who  is  now  to  take  the  oversight  of 
this  college  church.  Amid  the  fearful  responsibilities  of  his 
pastorate  let  him  enter  into  the  mind  of  all  true-hearted 
apostles,  "always  bearing  about  in  the  body  the  dying  of 
Jesus,  that  the  life  also  of  Jesus  may  be  manifested  in  our 
body ; "  "I  have  been  crucified  with  Christ ;  yet  I  live ; 
and  yet  no  longer  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me."  Let  our 
brother  be  strengthened  by  the  assurance  that  the  prayers  of 

1  Jonathan  Edwards  on  "  The  End  for  which  God  created  the  World."  pp. 
120,  121.    (Ed.  1791). 


136  UNION  WITH   CHRIST. 

this  church  and  of  other  churches  will  go  up  in  his  behalf  as 
he  toils  for  the  young  men  committed  to  him ;  that  when  he 
suffers,  other  members  of  the  Lord's  body  will  suffer  with  him ; 
that  every  goodly  thought  which  he  insinuates  into  the  hearts 
of  his  hearers  will  diffuse  its  influence  through  a  large  com- 
munity, and  tend  to  bind  remote  churches  together  in  the 
unity  of  the  faith ;  that  there  will  be  joy  among  the  angels 
over  every  one  of  his  hearers  who  repenteth ;  and,  dearer 
than  all  these  sympathies  of  the  church  militant  and  the 
church  triumphant,  the  Redeemer  himseK  has  promised : 
"  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world." 
Upon  the  end  of  the  world,  when  our  Redeemer  shall  gather 
together  in  one  all  things  in  him,  both  which  are  in  heaven 
and  are  on  earth,  and  make  the  union  complete  as  it  can  be 
between  himseK  and  his  friends,  —  upon  this  end  of  the 
world  may  our  brother  keep  his  eye  fixed,  steadfast,  as  he 
now  enters  his  great  office,  saying:  Yea,  doubtless,  and  I 
count  all  things  but  loss  —  that  I  may  win  Christ  and  be 
found  in  him,  not  having  mine  own  righteousness,  which  is 
of  the  law,  but  that  which  is  through  the  faith  of  Christ,  by 
whom,  now  more  than  ever,  the  world  is  crucified,  unto  me, 
and  by  whom,  now  more  than  ever,  I  am  crucified  unto  tho 
world. 


VI. 

ETERNITY    OF    GOD/ 


DEUTERONOMY    XXXII.    40. 
FOE  I  LIFT  UP  MY  HAND  TO  HEAVEN,  AND  SAY,  I  LIVK  FOB  EVBE. 

Who  and  what  is  God  ?  There  cannot  be  another  question 
more  momentous  than  this.  The  attributes  of  Jehovah  are 
Jehovah  himself.  There  are  men  who  imagine  that  he  first 
exists  as  a  substance  worthy  of  our  homage,  and  that  his 
attributes  are  something  added  to  him,  like  the  finishing 
touches  to  a  picture.  But  we  have  no  idea  of  him  apart 
from  his  perfections.  We  love  nothing  else,  we  revere 
nothing  else,  in  him  than  the  qualities  belonging  to  him. 
That  interior  essence  in  which  his  attributes  inhere  is  beyond 
all  our  distinct  apprehension.  The  eternity  of  God,  then,  is 
God  himself  as  eternal.  In  meditating  on  this  eternity  we 
are  reflecting,  not  on  an  abstraction,  but  on  him ;  and  when 
we  reflect  on  him  he  is  in  our  minds ;  even  he  who  inhabiteth 
eternity  dwells  in  the  intellect  that  thinks  of  him.  But  what 
do  we  mean  by  the  word  eternity  ?  Philosophers  have  written 
folios  after  folios  to  define  and  explain  it.  Some  have  said 
that  eternity  is  duration  without  parts.  Others  have  said 
that  it  is  duration  without  succession.  They  have  likened  it 
to  a  tower  standing  erect  in  a  stream  of  water.  The  ripples 
of  the  stream  that  now  strike  upon  the  tower  represent  time 
present ;  the  water  which  has  already  passed  the  tower,  and 
is  stiU  moving  from  it  down  the  stream,  is  a  symbol  of  time 

1  A  Sermon  preached  on  the  last  Sabbath  of  the  year  1 853. 


138  ETEENITY   OF  GOD. 

past ;  the  waves  which  are  now  up  the  stream  and  rolling 
on  toward  the  tower  are  symbols  of  time  future ;  but  the 
tower  itself  remains  unmoved  and  unmovable.  Again,  phi- 
losophers have  likened  the  divine  eternity  to  the  style  or 
gnomon  of  the  sun-dial,  remaining  perpendicular  and  sta- 
tionary, while  the  shadow  moving  around  it  exhibits  the 
varying  relations  of  time.  Other  schoolmen  have  said  that 
eternity  is  the  possibility  of  infinite  succession ;  still  others, 
that  it  is  a  ground  or  condition  of  that  possibility.  But 
after  all  the  numberless  attempts  to  define  the  word,  the 
same  old  question  comes  back  to  us  :  What  is  eternity  ?  No 
words  can  make  it  plainer  than  it  is  now.  We  cannot 
understand  a  definition  of  it  better  than  we  understand  the 
term  to  be  defined.  We  do  not  need  a  definition  for  any 
practical  purpose.  If  we  do  give  one,  we  choose  to  give  it 
in  the  oft-repeated  words  :  "  I  know  what  eternity  is,  if  you 
do  not  ask  me  what  it  is ;  but  if  you  do  ask  me,  I  do  not 
know."  Our  idea  is  plain  enough  for  every  act  of  duty,  if 
we  make  no  attempt  to  make  it  plainer  ;  but  the  very  effort 
to  decompose  it  confuses  and  bewilders  us. 

I.  A  truth  is  often  made  impressive  and  practical  by  con- 
sidering the  arguments  in  favor  of  it ;  let  us,  then,  glance 
at  the  reasons  for  believing  that  God  never  began  and  never 
ceases  to  be. 

He  never  began  to  be.  This  we  infer  from  the  nature 
of  cause  and  effect.  The  visible  universe  must  have  had  a 
cause.  Then  there  must  have  been  some  cause  in  existence 
from  eternity.  If  not,  there  must  have  been  a  period  when 
nothing  existed  from  which  anything  could  originate.  But 
to  suppose  that  all  things  sprang  ultimately  from  nothing  is 
absurd.  Tliat  something,  then,  which  existed  from  eternity 
is  the  first  cause  of  all  things  ;  and  this  is  God,  who  is  there- 
fore in  the  very  phraseology  of  the  argument  admitted  to  be 
from  everlasting. 


ETERNITY   OP  GOD.  139 

Again,  we  infer  the  past  eternity  of  Jehovah  from  his 
omnipotence.  Being  all-powerful,  he  could  not  have  been 
created.  For  if  he  were  created,  he  had  a  Creator ;  and  if 
he  had  a  Creator,  he  can  be  governed  by  that  Creator.  It  is 
a  first  principle  that  he  who  originates  a  substance  is  able  to 
control  that  which  he  originated.  But  to  suppose  that  God 
can  be  governed  by  another  being  is  to  suppose  that  he  is 
not  omnipotent.  Now  he  is  omnipotent,  therefore  he  cannot 
be  controlled  by  another  being ;  hence  he  was  never  created 
by  another ;  and  of  course,  if  uncreated,  he  must  be  eternal. 

That  God  will  never  cease  to  be  we  infer  from  his  present 
and  past  existence.  As  we  believe  in  our  own  immortality 
because  we  now  are,  so  we  believe  in  the  future  eternity  of 
God  because  he  now  is  and  has  been  always.  Unless  there 
can  be  conflicting  evidence,  we  have  a  logical  faith  that  things 
will  continue  as  they  have  been ;  and  where  they  have  ever 
been  the  same,  we  need  strong  positive  evidence  to  make  us 
doubt  that  they  will  always  remain  so. 

Again,  we  infer  the  future  eternity  of  Jehovah  from  the 
fact  that  there  is  and  will  be  no  power  which  can  cause  his 
existence  to  cease.  All  beings,  all  forces,  are  his  creatures ; 
and  that  which  is  created  can  never  defeat,  still  less  annihi- 
late, its  Creator.  No  extraneous  power,  then,  can  terminate 
his  existence.  Will  he  ever  choose  to  retire  from  being  ? 
It  is  the  tendency  of  mind,  so  far  as  we  can  understand  it,  — 
and  the  nobler  and  holier  the  mind,  so  much  the  stronger  is 
its  tendency,  —  to  love  its  own  existence,  to  recoil  from 
annihilation.  We  have  the  right  to  presume  that  God's  in- 
finite Spirit,  which  is  infinitely  blessed,  takes  an  infinite 
pleasure  in  its  own  eternal  life.  Then  it  will  not  forfeit  that 
life.  Besides,  his  existence  is  not  dependent  on  his  will.  It 
did  not  begin  by  virtue  of  volition,  nor  can  it  cease  by  the 
same.  It  is  the  nature  of  his  mysterious  essence  to  exist. 
That  Spirit,  raised  so  high  above  our  comprehension,  has  it 
for  its  law  to  be.     "  I  am,"  "  I  am  that  I  am,"  is  the  subhme 


140  ETERNITY  OP  GOD. 

designation  of  his  very  substance,  not  less  necessarily  uncaused 
than  it  is  incapable  of  an  end.  As  our  mental  existence  does 
not  depend  on  our  will,  neither  does  his  being  depend  on 
any  will,  even  his  own.  But  as  he  necessitates  our  life,  so  is 
it  his  perfection  that  his  own  existence  is  necessitated  in  his 
own  nature.  Ever  adorable  is  that  Spirit  who  is  because 
his  very  essence  makes  his  existence  inevitable,  and  in  the 
very  substratum  of  whose  attributes  lies  the  absolute  cause 
why  he  should  and  must  be. 

These  are  brief  suggestions  of  the  rational  argument  in 
favor  of  the  past  and  future  eternity  of  God.  The  Biblical 
proof  is  decisive.  For  he  is  not  only  affirmed  to  have  existed 
from  everlasting,  but  we  are  also  assured  that  his  "  years 
shall  have  no  end."  It  is  not  only  asserted  that  he  is  the 
King  eternal,  immortal,  invisible,  but  it  is  also  declared,  in 
a  phrase  which  combines  a  prediction  with  a  prayer,  '  to  him 
be  honor  and  glory  forever  and  ever.'  There  is  a  sense  in 
which  we  are  immortal ;  but  there  is  another  sense  in  which 
the  inspired  writers  are  accurate  in  teaching  that  He  only  — 
He  who  unlike  all  others  exists  by  his  own  inherent  energy 
of  being  —  God  "  only  hath  immortality."  ^ 

H.  The  main  design  of  this  discourse,  however,  is  not  to 
prove  the  divine  eternity,  but  to  make  a  few  remarks  upon  it. 

First,  the  fact  of  his  beginningless  and  endless  existence 
is  in  singular  harmony  with  the  other  attributes  of  Jehovah, 
This  admirable  harmony  is  a  distinct  perfection  of  his 
nature.  Men  have  believed  in  a  God  who  is  frail ;  but  there 
is  something  incongruous  in  the  idea  of  a  Spirit  continuing 
from  and  through  the  everlasting  solitudes,  and  yet  feeble. 
With  such  a  prolonged  duration  we  instinctively  associate 
unlimited  strength.  Men  have  believed  in  a  Divine  Spirit 
who  is  ignorant ;  but  so  far  as  we  understand  the  nature  of 
mind,  it  has  an  instinct  for  knowledge ;  intelligence  is  its 

J  1  Tim.  vi.  16;  John  v.  26. 


ETERNITY    OF   GOD.  141 

congenial  and  essential  aim ;  activity  in  perceiving  the  truth 
is  its  first  law.  Even  if  we  supposed  that  an  almighty  and 
eternal  mind  was  ignorant  once,  we  could  not  suppose  that 
it  is  ignorant  now.  Through  a  beginningless  duration  it  has 
been  employing  its  energy  in  thought ;  and  if  there  had  been 
new  ideas  to  be  gained  it  would  have  gained  them.  For  the 
nature  of  mind  is  to  make  advancement  where  there  is  any 
advancement  to  be  made ;  and  we  are  not  prepared  to  believe 
that  an  infinite  Spirit,  infinitely  active,  has  already  passed 
an  infinite  duration,  and  left  any  department  of  intelligence 
unexplored.  Men  have  believed  in  a  God  who  is  mutable. 
But  if  a  mind  through  numberless  myriads  of  cycles  has  been 
observing  all  the  possible  changes  of  things,  what  need  has 
he  of  still  repeated  fluctuations  ?  Must  they  not  have  been 
reiterated  often  enough,  and  long  enough  ?  We  instinctively 
associate  steadiness  with  anything  long  established,  immu- 
tableness  with  everything  eternal.  So  if  Jehovah  be  without 
beginning  he  is  self-existent ;  for  nothing  can  have  existed 
forever,  and  yet  have  had  an  extrinsic  cause.  Then  he  is 
independent ;  for  he  who  exists  in  and  of  himself  need  rely 
on  no  foreign  help.  We  are  likewise  predisposed  to  think 
that  an  eternal,  omnipotent  Being  is  morally  good.  Good- 
ness is  wisdom,  and  the  eternal  thoughtfulness  of  an  infinite 
mind,  seeing  all  things  just  as  they  are,  is  congenial  with 
considerate  wisdom,  and  uncongenial  with  the  opposite.  Sin 
is  folly,  and  a  Spirit  which  must  forever  have  seen  the  lowest 
depths  of  the  meanness  of  sin  will  not  be  short-sighted  enough 
to  welcome  it.  There  is  such  an  absolute  perfectness  in  the 
natural  attributes  of  God  as  it  is  hard  for  us  to  associate 
with  a  moment,  still  harder  with  an  eternity,  of  selfishness. 
We  love  to  think,  and  this  is  an  instinctive  love,  —  the  very 
instinct  involving  a  reason  for  the  thought,  —  that  the  im- 
measurable ages  have  already  been  inhabited  by  a  mind  as 
immeasurable  in  goodness  as  in  duration.  In  the  same  way 
our  instincts  incline  us  to  suppose  that  throughout  the  cycles 
that  have  gone  by  there  has  lived  one  Spirit  unlimited  in 


142  ETERNITY  OF  GOD. 

blessedness.  Has  an  Eternal  One  been  inwardly  annoyed 
with  malignant  passions  ?  Have  envy  and  malice  lacerated 
a  mind  which  has  had  interminable  opportunities  for  dis- 
cerning that  true  happiness  comes  from  true  benevolence? 
Will  one  who  has  experienced  all  the  phenomena  of  a  begin- 
ningless  life  be  liable  still  to  disappointment  ?  We  do  not 
pretend  to  demonstrate  that  if  God  has  existed  forever  then 
he  must  be  God  blessed  forever ;  we  only  mean  to  assert  that 
the  one  perfection  is  in  beautiful  agreement  with  the  other ; 
and  this  agreement  among  all  the  divine  attributes  is  a  delight 
to  the  soul ;  and  this  natural  delight  insinuates  into  the  mind 
a  faith  in  them  all.  If  one  attribute  comes  into  our  field  of 
vision,  all  come.  They  all  form  one  golden  chain,  and  if  a 
single  link  pass  before  our  admiring  eye,  all  the  links  move 
with  it  in  grace  inexpressible. 

So  far  as  the  mind  is  unperverted  by  sin,  it  aspires  of  its 
own  nature  to  a  belief  in  all  the  perfections  of  God  as  ever- 
lasting. It  demands  proof  for  their  existence,  but  is  logically 
satisfied  with  even  a  faint  proof.  Its  cravings  are  for  a 
Divine  Being  complete  in  himself,  while  we  are  complete  in 
him  in  whom  all  excellences  are  concentrated,  and  by  whom 
they  all  are  presented  to  us  in  their  intrinsic  union.  Our 
mind  was  made  to  believe  in  a  Being  whose  perfections, 
coalescing  in  an  internal  unity,  make  him  the  one  and  the 
only  God.  There  are  symmetries  in  the  world ;  but  they  are 
faint  copies  of  the  symmetry  which  is  in  him.  There  are 
consistencies  in  man ;  but  the  model  of  all  self-consistency  is 
God.  There  are  harmonies  in  all  ranks  of  being;  but  in 
Jehovah  is  that  exactness  of  concord  in  comparison  with 
which  all  the  musical  sounds  on  earth  are  like  a  troubled 
echo.  There  is  rest  in  heaven,  because  all  the  perfections  of 
the  King  of  heaven  co-exist  in  peace. 

Secondly,  as  the  various  attributes  of  Jehovah  are  fitted  to 
each  other,  so  his  eternity  increases  our  reverence  for  them 
all.     We  are   so  made  that  we   revere  the   ancient.     Lord 


ETERNITY  OP  GOD.  143 

Byron  personifies  time  as  the  "  beautifier  of  the  dead,  adorner 
of  the  ruin."  The  cities  of  a  remote  antiquity,  the  sages 
who  taught  in  them,  attract  our  peculiar  veneration.  Perhaps 
the  mind,  being  made  for  religious  truth,  is  endued  with  this 
reverent  spirit  in  order  that  it  may  pay  especial  homage  to 
him  who  is  the  Ancient  of  Days,  and  compared  with  whom 
all  human  antiquity  is  but  the  dew  of  the  morning.  If  his 
attributes  should  be  supposed  to  have  been  successively 
acquired,  they  would  be  at  once  somewhat  shorn  of  their 
glory.  If  there  was  a  time  when  he  did  not  know  all  things, 
we  should,  indeed,  revere  his  present  omniscience  and  om- 
nipotence, but  not  as  we  revere  those  attributes  now  when 
we  know  them  to  have  been  without  beginning.  As  the 
disciples  of  our  Lord  called  his  attention  to  the  majestic 
stones  of  the  temple,  he  checked  their  admiration  by  the 
announcement  that  not  one  of  those  stones  should  be  left 
upon  another.  How  soon  would  our  reverence  for  Jehovali 
be  abated,  if  we  imagined  that  he  would  become  frail,  or 
unskilful,  or  forgetful ! 

We  now  adore  his  goodness.  It  has  endured  through  infi- 
nitely more  myriads  of  centuries  than  there  have  been  seconds 
since  the  first  creation.  But  the  moment  we  strike  out  the 
quality  of  permanence  from  his  goodness  we  despoil  it  of 
one  crowning  gem.  How  long  soever  we  may  suppose  it  to 
have  continued,  still,  if  it  be  not  without  beginning  it  de- 
generates into  a  thing  of  mere  time ;  there  was  an  infinite 
duration  in  which  our  Creator  was  not  good.  If  the  divine 
benevolence  has  not  been  eternal  already,  it  never  will  become 
eternal.  At  any  future  period,  remote  as  it  may  be,  that 
goodness  will  only  have  continued  to  one  finite  point  from 
another  finite  point.  Reason  about  this  as  we  may,  we  feel 
this  to  be  a  degradation ;  our  sense  of  the  magnificent  would 
find  nothing  to  meet  its  wants.  Our  confidence  in  the  divine 
goodness  would  be  impaired,  if  we  should  entertain  the  mere 
conjecture  that  it  will  ever  vanish.  When  will  it  wither 
away  like  a  flower  of  the  field  ?     Has  our  Protector  already 


144  ETERNITY  OF  GOD. 

begun  to  faint  and  to  be  weary  in  well-doing  ?  Our  trust  in 
him  is  complete,  because  his  love  is  fixed,  constant,  invari- 
able, —  what  do  we  say  ?  these  are  not  the  words,  —  his  love 
is  absolute  and  eternal. 

Absolute  eternity ^ — this  one  idea  makes  the  entire  char- 
acter of  Jehovah  august.  The  degree  in  which  it  surpasses 
our  distinct  and  definite  conception  adds  to  the  majesty  of  it. 
All  things  grand  go  out  into  the  obscure.  It  is  well  for  us 
to  let  our  minds  roam  into  the  future,  and  strive  after  a 
terminus  to  the  ages  which  are  to  be  illumined  by  the  glory 
of  the  Most  High.  We  can  only  persevere  in  striving,  and 
shall  be  at  last  as  far  as  at  first  from  a  boundary  line  of  that 
duration  which  as  yet  has  been  pervaded  by  no  life.  In  the 
past,  however,  an  eternity  has  been  lived  through.  Our 
mind,  penetrating  into  that  antecedent  duration,  can  make 
no  more  approach  than  it  has  made  now  to  any  sign  of  a  com- 
mencement. Yet  the  mysterious  truth  is,  that  the  cycles 
beyond  our  imagination,  should  we  spend  our  immortal  life 
in  endeavoring  to  imagine  them,  have  been  lightened  up  with 
the  radiant  benevolence  of  that  Spirit  who  had  already 
enjoyed  an  eternal  life  at  the  most  distant  period  which  can 
suggest  itself  to  our  quick-moving,  far-reaching  fancy.  Let 
the  figures  of  arithmetic  be  added  one  to  another,  and  written 
down  in  so  many  books  "  that  even  the  world  itself  would 
not  contain  the  books  that  should  be  written,"  and  let  each 
of  these  figures  denote  a  century,  all  of  them  together  would 
only  reach  back  to  a  period  at  the  beginning  of  which  our 
Creator  had  existed  forever,  in  a  sense  as  real  as  that  in 
which  myriads  of  ages  hence  he  will  have  existed  forever. 
Herein  is  the  incomprehensibleness  of  his  essence.  This  is 
essential  to  his  being  the  true  Jehovah.  This  is  the  com- 
plement of  all  his  attriliutes.  This  is  their  last  consummate 
glory.  This  is  his  final  distinction  from  other  gods.  This 
is  his  name.  This  is  the  meaning  of  the  remarkable  words : 
"  Hearken  unto  me,  0  Jacob,  and  Israel  my  called,  I  am  he ; 
I  am  the  first ;  I  also  am  the  last ;  mine  hand  also  hath  laid 


ETEKNITY   OF   GOD.  145 

the  foundation  of  the  earth."  Therefore,  "Every  creature 
which  is  in  heaven,  and  on  the  earth,  and  under  the  earth, 
and  sucli  as  are  in  the  sea,  and  all  that  arc  in  them,  heard  I 
saying,  Blessing  and  honor  and  glory  and  power  be  unto  him 
that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  forever  and 
ever."  "  We  give  thee  thanks,  0  Lord  God  Almighty,  which 
art,  and  wast,  and  art  to  come,  because  thou  hast  taken  to 
thee  thy  great  power,  and  hast  reigned."  "  The  four  and 
twenty  elders  shall  fall  down  before  him  that  sitteth  on  the 
throne,  and  shall  worship  him  that  liveth  forever  and  ever." 

Thirdly,  the  preceding  topic  leads  us  to  the  remark  that 
the  absolute  eternity  of  the  Redeemer  proves  him  to  be 
divine.  ■  We  have  seen  that  eternity  is  involved  in,  and  it 
also  implies,  self-existence.  Now,  it  may  be  that  the  very 
constitution  of  a  self-existent  mind  necessitates  a  Trinity. 
Perhaps  the  nature  which  exists  because  it  intrinsically  must 
exist  is  by  the  same  inherent  necessity  triune.  Be  this, 
however,  as  it  may,  the  self-existence  of  a  Being  is  a  proof 
of  his  Divine  essence.  The  Redeemer,  being  eternal,  is  the 
"I  am."  He  then  is  Jehovah.  We  have  seen,  also,  that 
the  whole  attribute  of  eternity  is  of  itself  a  characteristic 
and  an  evidence  of  the  Godhead.  Does,  then,  the  Redeemer 
possess  this  crowning  attribute  ?  Is  he  adorned  with  that 
perfection  which  adds  a  glory  to  all  the  excellences  of  the 
Most  High  ?  Then  he  is  divine  ;  and  in  agreement  herewith 
he  is  designated  by  the  same  titles  which  characterize  the 
ever-living  Father.  That  very  attribute  which  becomes  a 
proper  name  of  the  Deity  is  applied  to  Jesus  by  himself,  who 
never  claimed  an  unmerited  honor.  "  I  am  Alpha  and 
Omega,  the  beginning  and  the  ending,  saith  the  Lord,  which 
is,  and  which  was,  and  which  is  to  come,  the  Almighty." 
"And  when  I  saw  him,"  says  John,  "I  fell  at  his  feet  as 
dead.  And  he  laid  his  right  hand  upon  me,  saying  unto 
me.  Fear  not  [and  he  adds  a  divine  reason  for  the  fearless- 
ness], I  am  the  first  and  the  last;  I  am  he  that  liveth,  and 


146  ETERNITY   OF   CxOD. 

was  dead  [then  it  must  be  the  crucified  one  who  thus  liveth 
and  was  dead]  ;  and,  behold,  I  am  alive  forevermore,  amen, 
and  have  the  keys  of  hell  and  of  death."  In  the  plain 
attempt  of  a  New  Testament  author  to  prove  the  divinitj  of 
his  Lord,  he  quotes  from  the  Old  Testament  a  few  decisive 
words  ;  and  while  the  Psalmist  obviously  addresses  those 
words  to  Jehovah,  the  writer  to  the  Hebrews  as  directly 
addresses  them  to  Christ,  and  says :  "  Thou,  Lord,  in  the 
beginning  hast  laid  the  foundation  of  the  earth,  and  the 
heavens  are  the  works  of  thy  hands.  They  shall  perish,  but 
thou  remainest ;  and  they  all  shall  wax  old  as  a  garment, 
and  as  a  vesture  shalt  thou  fold  them  up,  and  they  shall  be 
changed ;  but  thou  art  the  same,  and  thy  years  shall  not 
fail."  We  are  redeemed,  then,  not  with  silver  and  gold,  but 
with  the  precious  blood  of  one  who  is  said  to  be  the  same 
yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever,  and  therefore  has  the  dis- 
tinctive attribute  of  the  Father  in  whom  is  no  variableness, 
and  on  whom  not  even  the  shadow  of  a  turning  ever  passes. 
It  is  no  ephemeral  surety,  this  which  is  given  us  for  our 
future  blessedness ;  for  "  in  the  beginning  was  the  Word, 
and  the  Word  was  with  God,  and  the  Word  was  God,"  and 
became  flesh,  and  he  "  shall  reign  over  the  house  of  Jacob 
forever,  and  of  his  kingdom  there  shall  be  no  end."  It  is 
no  sudden  impulse  of  love  which  prompts  him  to  rescue  us 
from  the  pains  which  a  violated  law  has  threatened,  but  he 
is  to  say :  "  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  king- 
dom prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world." 
It  was  before  the  morning  stars  sang  together  that  Christ 
offered  himself  as  a  substitute  for  lost  men,  and  said  :  "  Lo, 
I  come ;  in  the  volume  of  the  book  it  is  written  of  me,  I 
delight  to  do  thy  will,  0  my  God."  Because  the  Saviour 
consented  in  eternity  to  be  a  sacrifice  for  us,  God  formed  the 
plan  of  a  church,  and  devised  the  ordinances  of  salvation. 
We  are  favored  with  the  gospel  "  according  to  the  eternal 
purpose  which  he  purposed  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord."  We 
are  saved  "  according  to  his  own  purpose  and  grace  which 


ETERNITY   OF  GOD.  147 

was  given  us  in  Christ  Jesus  before  times  eternal."  Hence 
we  derive  an  assurance  that  as  our  Redeemer  had  the  spirit 
of  self-sacrifice  for  us  before  time  began,  so  he  "  ever  liveth 
to  make  intercession  for"  us;  that,  having  loved  his  own 
from  the  beginning,  he  will  be  with  them  "  alway,  even  unto 
the  end  of  the  world"  ;  that  as  he  promised  in  the  eternity 
gone  by  to  make  it  consistent  for  God  to  pardon  sin,  so, 
having  in  time  fulfilled  that  promise,  he  is  highly  exalted, 
and  at  his  name  every  knee  shall  bow,  and  every  tongue 
confess  that  he  is  Lord,  whose  dominion  shall  be  without 
end,  as  it  has  been  without  beginning. 

Fourthly,  it  is  a  legitimate  sequence  from  the  remarks 
preceding,  that  the  beginningless  and  endless  existence  of 
Jehovah  is  a  theme  of  solace  to  his  friends.  According  to 
the  dying  words  of  Moses,  '  The  eternal  God  is  their  refuge, 
and  underneath  them  are  the  everlasting  arms.'  We  love 
to  know  that  '  before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or 
ever  he  had  formed  the  earth  and  the  world,  even  from  ever- 
lasting to  everlasting,  he  is  God,'  and  therefore  needs  no 
aid  from  other  beings  ;  and  although  he  condescends  to  ask 
for  their  homage,  yet  he  is  puissant  enough  to  retain  his 
blessedness  without  them.  Grand  is  that  anthem  of  the 
Psalmist :  "  Forever,  0  Lord,  thy  word  is  settled  in  heaven." 
There  is  sublimity  in  the  past  solitude  of  that  great  Spirit 
who  is  supposed  to  have  lived  through  eternal  cycles  ere 
he  created  the  universe,  and  who  then  made  darkness  his 
pavilion.  And  "  this  God,"  saith  the  Psalmist,  "  is  our  God 
forever  and  ever,  he  will  be  our  guide  even  unto  death." 
While  we  have  a  feeling  of  desertion,  we  are  comforted  by 
the  thought  that  in  his  eternal  solitariness  the  omniscient 
One  had  all  the  bliss  of  the  most  intimate  society.  We  have 
not  heard  at  what  period  he  created  other  minds  ;  but  before 
he  spake  them  into  life  he  knew  them  as  thoroughly  as  they 
can  be  known  now.  He  had  no  society  with  them  in  the 
sense  of  receiving  from  them  fresh  communication  of  before 


148  ETERNITY   OF  GOD. 

unnoticed  love ;  but  he  foresaw  their  homage  to  him,  he 
enjoyed  their  fealty  to  the  right,  and  this  is  the  spirit  of 
society.  He  was  blissful,  too,  in  the  contemplation  of  his 
own  excellences.  Men  speak  of  an  intercourse  among  the 
persons  of  the  Godhead.  There  was  among  them  no  inter- 
change of  sentiments  previously  unknown  to  each  other,  no 
expression  of  a  thought  novel  to  either  one  of  them ;  but  the 
Godhead  has  ever  loved  the  distinctions  in  his  own  being, 
and  with  a  serene  delight  has  contemplated  from  everlasting 
their  sacred  offices,  and  this  communion  with  himself  is 
heaven  —  the  spirit  of  a  social  heaven.  We  are  made  to  be 
cheerful  in  the  thought  that  he  has  ever  been  in  the  fruition 
of  all  that  can  be  now  enjoyed.  He  had  an  eternal  beatitude 
in  his  own  plans,  in  the  foresight  of  their  accomplishment. 
Even  we,  the  imperfect  images  of  him,  derive  enjoyment  from 
the  anticipation  of  our  pleasures ;  a  human  architect  finds 
a  delight  in  the  prophetic  view  of  the  structure  which  he 
rears.  But  in  God's  eternity  anticipation  is  vision ;  memory 
has  all  the  vividness  of  present  sight.  We  are  solaced  by 
the  thought  that  our  Defender  is  thus,  and  was  ever,  elevated 
above  all  sources  of  discontent,  and  he  chooses  to  make  u& 
ultimately  like  himself.  "  If  ye  loved  me,"  may  every  dying 
saint  exclaim,  "ye  would  rejoice  because  I  said  that  I  go 
unto  my  Father,  for  my  Father  is  greater  [in  a  happier  con- 
dition] than  I."  "As  for  God,"  saith  the  Psalmist,  "  his  way 
is  perfect ;  the  word,  of  the  Lord  is  tried  ;  . . .  for  who  is  God 
save  the  Lord  ?  or  who  is  a  rock  [firm,  strong,  durable]  save 
our  God  ?  .  . . .  The  Lord  is  clothed  with  strength,  wherewith 
he  hath  girded  himseK.  . . .  Thy  throne  is  established  of  old  ; 
thou  art  from  everlasting." 

There  are  times  when  the  faith  of  good  men  fails,  when 
they  feel  that  their  hope  had  been  excited  merely  to  be 
baffled.  But  are  they  afflicted  in  consequence  of  a  sudden 
impulse  of  their  Ruler  ?  Was  his  an  unpremeditated  purpose 
thus  to  confound  their  anticipations  ?  Throughout  a  begin- 
ningless  life  was  it  revolvingi,  or   rather   fixed,  in  his  all- 


ETEENITY  OF  GOD.  149 

comprehending  mind.  We  are  to  trust  the  matured  wisdom 
of  his  most  incomprehensible  act.  "  For  behold,"  saith  an 
Eastern  sage,  "  God  is  great,  and  we  know  him  not ;  neither 
can  the  number  of  his  years  be  searched  out";  and  in  the 
omniscience  of  those  numberless  years  are  garnered  reasons 
which  we  cannot  explore  for  disasters  the  good  fruits  of 
which  we  cannot  now  detect.  "  Where  wast  thou  when  I  laid 
the  foundations  of  the  earth  ?  Declare,  if  thou  hast  under- 
standing." The  creature  of  a  day  cannot  arraign  him  whose 
eternity  is  a  symbol  and  a  proof  of  all  his  other  perfections. 
It  suggests  the  most  amiable  of  his  attributes.  It  is  freighted 
with  them.  His  eternity  is  an  eternity  of  watchful  love. 
"  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  the  King  of  Israel,  and  his  Redeemer, 
the  Lord  of  Hosts :  I  am  the  first,  and  I  am  the  last ;  and 

beside  me  there  is  no  God Fear  ye  not,  neither  be  afraid  : 

have  not  I  told  thee  from  that  time,  and  have  declared  it  ? 
Ye  are  even  my  witnesses.  Is  there  a  God  beside  me  ?  Yea, 
there  is  no  God  ;  I  know  not  any." 

And  as  we  are  to  alleviate  our  troubles  by  reflecting  on 
the  delibcrateness  of  the  counsels  from  which  they  sprang, 
so  we  are  to  heighten  our  joy  by  reflecting  on  the  constancy 
of  the  grace  which  planned  it  from  the  beginning.  He  who 
counted  all  our  tears,  long  before  he  called  them  forth,  did 
also,  with  the  same  prevenient  care,  devise  the  scheme  for 
all  our  pleasures.  Not  one  of  them  but  is  the  fruit  of  his 
protracted  contemplation  and  tenderness  of  pity.  "  For  thus 
saith  the  high  and  lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  I  dwell 
in  the  high  and  holy  place ;  with  him  also  that  is  of  a  con- 
trite and  humble  spirit,  to  revive  the  spirit  of  the  humble, 
and  to  revive  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones.  For  I  will  not 
contend  forever,  neither  will  I  be  always  wroth  ;  for  the 
spirit  should  fail  before  me,  and  the  souls  which  I  have 
made.  I  have  seen  his  ways,  and  will  heal  him ;  I  will  lead 
him  also,  and  restore  comforts  unto  him  and  to  his  mourners ; 

I  have  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting  love,  therefore 

with  lovinjir-kindness   have   I   drawn  thee And   I   will 


150  ETERNITY   OF  GOD. 

betrotli  thee  unto  me  forever;  in  righteousness,  in  judg- 
ment, in  loving-kindness,  in  mercies  :  I  will  even  betroth 
thee  unto  me  in  faithfulness."  Hence  the  exultant  cry  of 
David,  "Thy  kingdom  is  an  everlasting  kingdom,  and  thy 
dominion  endureth  throughout  all  generations  "  ;  and  it  fol- 
lows, therefore,  "The  Lord  upholdeth  all  that  fall,  and 
raiseth  up  all  those  that  be  bowed  down." 

There  are  men  emulous  of  fame  that  shall  never  die.  They 
long  to  have  their  names  engraved  "  on  stone  and  ever-during 
brass,"  for  the  emulation  of  distant  ages.  But  the  man  who 
has  a  humble  and  contrite  heart  shall  be  known  and  honored 
by  the  one  mind  compared  with  whom  all  other  minds  who 
might  know  and  honor  him  are  as  nothing.  Instead  of 
aspiring  for  the  praise  of  the  multitude,  he  should  aspire  for 
the  approval  of  him  who  is  himself  the  majority  of  intelli- 
gences. All  the  virtues  of  a  man,  feeble  and  slight  as  they 
may  be,  shall  be  treasured  up  in  the  unbounded  recollection, 
and  shall  receive  the  complacential  love,  of  a  Spirit  who 
comprehendeth  all  other  spirits  within  himself.  The  good 
memory  of  the  wicked  shall  fade  away;  they  sought  their 
life  and  shall  lose  it ;  but  the  righteous,  humble  and  despised 
here,  shall  flourish  in  everlasting  remembrance — the  remem- 
brance of  him  who  holdeth  fast  all  that  is  ever  committed 
to  him,  and  causeth  good  men  to  shine  more  and  more  unto 
the  perfect  day,  and  to  sing  that  unceasing  doxology,  "  Unto 
him  that  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his  own 
blood,  and  hath  made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  God  and 
his  Father,  to  him  be  glory  and  dominion  forever  and  ever. 
Amen." 

Fifthly,  as  the  eternity  of  God  stimulates  the  Christian 
with  hope,  so  it  is  fitted  to  alarm  the  ungodly.  Some  of  the 
most  fearful  pains  ever  borne  by  a  man  have  resulted  from 
the  monotony  of  his  circumstances.  To  be  condemned  to 
see  forever  the  same  object,  though  indifferent  in  itself ;  to 
hear  forever  the  same  sound,  neither  agreeable  nor  disagree- 


ETERNITY   OF   GOD.  15J 

able  intrinsically,  would  be  past  endurance.  The  heathen 
poets  feigned  the  punishments  of  their  Tartarus  to  be  such 
as  these :  to  roll  up  forever  the  same  recoiling  stone,  to 
grasp  forever  at  the  same  retreating  bough,  to  be  filling 
forever  the  same  emptying  sieve,  to  strive  forever  to  drink 
of  the  same  vanishing  stream.  Some  of  the  severest  penalties 
of  the  Inquisition  have  been  such  as  these  :  to  sit  in  one 
place  week  after  week,  to  have  the  surrounding  silence  in- 
terrupted by  one  and  the  same  word  repeated  every  minute 
through  successive  months,  to  have  a  single  drop  of  water 
fall  upon  the  head  at  the  end  of  every  thirty  seconds.  This 
undeviating  recurrence  of  the  same  thing,  trivial  though  it 
be  in  itself,  derives  its  fearf ulness  from  its  perpetuity.  Now 
to  dwell  forever  with  the  eye  of  one  Being  whom  we  do  not 
love  constantly  fixed  upon  us ;  which  way  soever  we  turn,  to 
behold  that  same  face,  which  is  as  the  sun  shining  in  its 
strength,  and  to  descry  in  it  no  signs  of  complacence  in  our 
character — the  unending  monotony  of  this  appeal  to  con- 
science would  be  painful  enough  to  suggest  the  biblical  de- 
scriptions of  our  punishment.  But  to  live  forever  under  the 
eye  of  Him  who  abhors  our  character  because  it  is  intrinsically 
mean ;  of  Him  whom  we  have  not  allowed,  and  will  not 
allow,  to  reign  over  us ;  of  Him  whom  we  have  chosen,  and 
persevere  in  choosing,  to  dethrone  so  far  as  his  empire  over 
our  wills  is  concerned ;  of  him  who  has  borne  long  with  us, 
and  counselled  and  entreated  us  to  escape  his  just  inflictions, 
and  we  loould  not,  —  this  is  to  live  under  an  interminable 
appeal  to  the  moral  faculty ;  and  this  appeal  will  preserve 
the  faculty  in  its  normal  exercise ;  and  in  its  normal  exercise 
it  will  never  cease  to  feel  compunction  for  sin.  Left  to  itself, 
conscience  never  forgives  a  wrong  act.  It  is  a  correlate  of 
the  divine  justice  ;  and  this  justice,  left  to  itself,  and  working 
without  the  influence  of  the  atonement,  awakens  that  remorse 
which  constitutes  the  unending  moral  punishment.  It  is 
therefore  to  his  own  conscience,  as  well  as  to  Him  who  pre- 
serves it  in  its  normal  exercise,  that  the  incorrigible  trans- 


152  ETEENITY   OF  GOD. 

gressor  will  exclaim,  with  a  meaning  unlike  that  of  the 
Psalmist :  '  Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  presence,  and 
whither  shall  I  flee  from  thy  spirit  ?  If  I  ascend  unto 
heaven,  thou  art  there  ;  if  I  make  my  bed  in  the  underworld, 
behold,  thou  art  there.' 

The  eternity  of  God  has  the  same  reference  to  duration 
which  his  omnipresence  has  to  space.  As  all  of  Jehovah  is 
in  every  spot,  so  all  of  Jehovah  is  in  every  minute.  There 
is  no  diluiion  of  his  existence  —  no  drawing  of  it  out,  a  por- 
tion at  a  time,  a  part  in  a  place  ;  but  the  whole  of  it  at  every 
time,  in  every  place,  —  the  entire  infinity  of  that  just  One  in 
all  his  intensity  of  abhorrence  toward  all  wrong,  —  this  is 
before  the  sinner's  eye  and  ear,  in  contact  with  his  quickened 
conscience,  without  intermission,  without  end,  without  a 
moment's  relief  occasioned  by  the  faintest  hope  of  most 
distant  end.  Could  there  be  the  slightest  ray  of  anticipation 
that  after  the  sands  which  compose  the  earth  should  have 
dropped  away,  one  after  another,  and  every  other  after  an 
interval  of  a  thousand  years,  this  gaze  of  infinite  holiness 
upon  the  persistent  malefactor  would  cease,  then  from  this 
bare  anticipation  would  flow  forth  a  rich  relief.  But  eternity, 
—  the  ineffable  meaning  compressed  into  that  one  hopeless 
word,  —  who  shall  gauge  the  depths  of  it!  The  mind  sinks 
underneath  it.  Language  fails.  Never  in  this  life  can  we 
explore  the  full  significance  of  the  asseverations :  "  The 
Lord  shall  endure  forever ;  he  hath  prepared  his  throne  for 
judgment " ;  "  For  I  lift  my  hand  to  heaven,  and  say,  I 
live  forever."  What  a  pathos  lies  hidden  in  the  words: 
"  Will  the  Lord  cast  off  forever  ?"  "  Is  his  mercy  clean  gone 
forever?" 

Our  sins  may  have  been  committed  long  ago,  and  may 
well  nigh  have  vanished  from  our  vision ;  but  all  the  sins  of 
the  longest  life  are  like  fresh  events  to  the  mind  of  him  who 
is  without  beginning  of  days  or  end  of  years.  This  is  the 
significance  of  his  (sternal  now.  It  is  as  if  every  period  of 
existence  were  the  present  instant,  and  as  if  the  present  instant 


ETERNITY  OF  GOD.  153 

were  every  period  of  existence.  We  seek  relief  by  imagining 
that  sins  committed  within  the  brief  space  of  our  present  life 
cannot  share  in  his  everlasting  remembrance  ;  but  with  him 
who  has  existed  from  eternity  one  day  is  prolonged  even  as 
a  thousand  years,  and  our  life  of  threescore  years  and  ten  is 
as  thousands  of  centuries.  Our  measures  of  length  and 
shortness  of  duration  are  not  his  measures.  He  judges  by 
acting  principles,  rather  than  by  their  outward  development ; 
for  in  the  acting  principles  of  character  he  detects  their 
interminable  results.  Accordingly,  that  simple  truth,  Right 
is  right,  and  remains  always  right,  always  fit  for  and  con- 
gruous with  the  approval  of  conscience,  —  will  always  breathe 
comfort  into  the  souls  of  men  who  are  loyal  to  their  Maker, 
and  will  cheer  them  with  the  anticipation  of  their  far  more 
exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory ;  for  they  rejoice  in 
the  anthem :  "  Thou,  0  Lord,  remainest  forever ;  and  thy 
throne  from  generation  to  generation."  But  the  converse  of 
that  truth  —  Wrong  is  wrong,  and  remains  always  wrong, 
always  deserving  with  the  merit  of  condignity  the  disapproval 
of  conscience  and  the  Lord  of  the  conscience  —  will  bring 
new  despondency  into  the  souls  of  men  who  persevere  in 
their  wrong-doing ;  for  their  conscience  points  them  to  the 
words  :  "  The  Lord  shall  reign  forever  and  ever."  One  and 
the  same  theme, — the  eternity  of  God,  —  how  it  will  exalt 
the  mind  in  triumph  when  the  meditations  on  it  are  turned 
upward,  and  depress  it  in  awe  when  they  are  turned  down- 
ward! 

As  the  last  sands  of  the  old  year  are  soon  to  fall,  we  are 
reminded  of  the  contrast  between  man  and  his  Maker. 
*  Behold  God  has  made  our  days  as  a  hand-breath,  and  our 
age  is  as  nothing  before  him.'  Our  days  are  passed  away 
as  the  swift  ships,  as  the  eagle  that  hasteth  to  the  prey.  God 
is  likened  to  a  rock,  and  to  the  everlasting  hills ;  but  "  all 
flesh  is  grass,  and  all  the  goodliness  thereof  is  as  the  flower 
of  the  field."  A  vapor  thin  and  evanescent,  a  dream  mo- 
mentary and  deceitful,  —  such  is  the  life  of  man. 


154  ETERNITY   OF  GOD. 

The  friends  of  our  youth,  where  are  they  ?  Dropping,  one 
by  one,  out  of  our  sight ;  and  we,  if  we  are  left  long,  shall  be 
left  alone,  mourning  that  it  is  no  more  with  us  as  in  the 
bright  morning  of  the  past.  When  alone,  however,  we  may 
listen  to  the  words  of  him  who  says  :  "  See,  now,  that  I,  even 
I,  am  he,  and  there  is  no  god  with  me :  I  kill  and  I  make 
alive,  I  wound  and  I  heal.  For  I  lift  my  hand  to  heaven, 
and  say,  I  live  forever."  With  us  the  old  year  is  hastening 
backward,  and  the  new  year  is  hastening  forward. 

"  Our  lives  through  various  scenes  are  drawn, 
And  vexed  with  trifling  cares ; 
While  thine  eternal  thoughts  move  on 
Thine  undisturbed  affairs. 
"  Eternity  with  all  its  years 

Stands  present  in  thy  view ; 
To  thee  there  's  nothing  old  appears, 
Great  God  !  there 's  nothing  new." 

We  are,  indeed,  but  an  image  of  him,  unlike  the  substance. 
We  are  but  a  shadow  of  him,  vacant,  fickle,  vanishing  away. 
To  his  past  eternity  we  have  nothing  in  ourselves  that  corre- 
sponds. Our  future  eternity  is  but  the  result  of  his  will.  His 
will  is  that  while  time  lasts  we  prepare  for  the  eternity  which 
is  soon  to  come.  In  a  few  more  years  '  the  angel  shall  stand 
upon  the  sea  and  upon  the  earth,  and  lift  up  his  right  hand 
to  heaven,  and  swear  by  him  that  liveth  forever  and  ever,  — 
who  created  the  heaven  and  the  things  that  are  therein,  and 
the  earth  and  the  things  that  are  therein,  and  the  sea  and 
the  things  that  are  therein,  that  there  shall  be  time  no 
longer.'  Let  us  so  live  that  we  may  then  have  the  seal  of 
God  upon  our  foreheads,  that  we  may  not  be  hurt  by  the 
second  death. 


ALL  THE  MORAL   ATTRIBUTES   OF  GOD  ARE 
COMPREHENDED   IN   HIS   LOVE. 


I  JOHN    IV.    le. 
GOD  18  LOVB. 


What  is  the  character  of  Jehovah  ?  No  other  query  can 
be  so  interesting  as  this.  We  are  inquisitive  to  learn  what 
were  the  traits  of  our  ancestors ;  but  our  dependence  on  an 
earthly  progenitor,  when  compared  with  our  dependence  on 
our  Father  in  heaven,  is  as  nothing.  We  are  eager  to  inquire 
what  is  the  disposition  of  our  rulers;  but  Jehovah  is  the 
Potentate  on  whom  we  rely  for  our  very  breath.  We  are 
restless  to  ascertain  what  are  the  qualities  of  the  companion 
with  whom  we  must  be  associated  during  a  protracted  journey 
or  voyage  ;  but  life  is  the  real  journey,  the  real  voyage,  and 
God  is  the  Being  with  whom  we  must  remain  in  ceaseless 
contiguity.  Sickness  will  not  separate  us  from  him.  Death 
will  augment  our  nearness  to  him.  Eternity  will  be  spent 
in  his  immediate  vision.  His  smile  or  frown  we  shall  see 
always.  His  voice  we  shall  hear  without  a  pause.  Wlio, 
then,  and  what,  is  this  Being,  so  much  more  intimately  con- 
joined with  us  than  is  any  ancestor,  so  much  more  powerful 
over  us  than  is  any  human  governor,  so  much  nearer  to  us  than 
is  any  earthly  companion  ?  Our  anxieties  are  relieved  by  the 
answer  given  to  this  question  by  our  text.  There  is  a  solace 
in  the  very  words  of  it.  Not  in  our  whole  language  are 
three  syllables  more  affluent  in  meaning.    All  our  associations 


156  ALL   THE  MORAL   ATTRIBUTES   OF   GOD 

with  the  word  "  God"  are  fitted  to  awaken  re\erence.  All 
our  associations  with  the  word  "  love  "  call  forth  a  tenderness 
of  interest ;  and  when  the  awe  elicited  bj  the  name  of 
Jehovah  is  combined  with  the  reciprocated  affection  elicited 
by  the  idea  of  benevolence, — when  we  read  that  God  is  love, 
—  we  are  amazed  as  well  as  gladdened  by  the  enunciation, 
and  we  inquire  for  the  definite  meaning  and  the  practical 
results  of  it. 

I.  Our  first  impulse  is  to  ascertain  the  precise  import  of  the 
words  in  our  text.  "We  do  not  read  in  the  sacred  volume 
that  Gabriel  is  benevolence,  nor  that  Michael  is  benevolence, 
nor  that  Abraham,  David,  Jeremiah,  Paul,  or  even  John,  is 
benevolence ;  but  we  do  read  the  emphatic  utterance,  "  God 
is  love."  Inspiration  does  not  inform  us  that  Jehovah  is  all 
power  or  all  knowledge,  that  he  is  unchangeableness  or  eter- 
nity, but  he  is  love.  Not  merely  are  we  assured  that  he  has 
benevolence,  that  this  is  one  among  other  feelings  which  he 
puts  forth,  that  it  is  a  virtue  which  appertains  to  him  even 
as  we  read  that  "power  belongeth  unto  God";  but  he  is 
benevolence  itself.  Of  course,  he  possesses  natural  attributes, 
such  as  omnipotence  and  omniscience ;  but  our  text  implies 
that  these  are  controlled  by  the  moral  choice  of  the  universal 
well-being.  Of  course,  he  feels  indignation  against  the  malice 
of  his  enemies,  and  an  infinite  disapproval  of  their  sin  in 
every  form  of  it ;  but  these  are  constitutional  sentiments,  and 
our  text  implies  that  they  are  subservient  to,  and  governed 
by,  a  wise  preference  for  the  welfare  of  the  universe.  We 
should  render  but  little  glory  to  his  power  or  knowledge 
were  it  not  guided  by  a  benignant  spirit.  We  should  recoil 
from  his  eternity  and  immutability  were  they  not  a  ceaseless 
duration  of  a  love  which  comprehends  all  the  virtues,  and 
knows  not  the  shadow  of  a  change.  While,  then,  our  text 
implies  indirectly  that  all  the  natural  attributes  and  involun- 
tary sentiments  of  Jehovah  are  controlled  and  ennobled  by 
his  good-will,  it  implies  also  that  all  his  moral  choice  is  the 


ARE  COMPREHENDED   IN    HIS   LOVE.  167 

choice  of  the  general  rather  than  the  private  welfare  of 
sentient  beings  ;  it  is  the  elective  preference  for  the  greater 
above  the  smaller,  for  the  higher  above  the  lower,  welfare  of 
all  beings  who  have  a  capacity  for  either  holiness  or  happi- 
ness. This  choice  or  elective  preference  is  put  forth  on  the 
ground  of,  and  in  proportion  to,  the  worth  or  value  of  those 
beings.  In  the  Biblical  language  it  is  called  love,  and  thus 
by  a  figure  substituting  the  act  for  the  agent,  God  is  love. 

II.  Having  thus  explained  the  meaning  of  the  text,  let  us 
proceed,  in  the  second  place,  to  prove  its  main  doctrine,  that 
all  the  free  choices  of  the  Most  High  are  comprehended  in  a 
single,  continuous  preference  for  the  largest  and  highest 
well-being  of  the  universe. 

1.  One  proof  is  derived  from  the  fact  that  all  goodness 
of  heart  is  by  the  inspired  writers  summed  up  in  love. 
They  require  of  us  nothing  more  or  less  than  to  be  per- 
fect, as  our  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect,  and  they  affirm 
that  all  the  law  is  fulfilled  in  one  word :  "  Thou  shalt  love 
thy  neighbor  as  thyself."  The  law  is  a  transcript  of  the 
divine  perfections  ;  by  learning  what  his  commands  are,  we 
learn  what  God  is  ;  yet  "  he  that  loveth  another  hath  fulfilled 
the  law."  So  says  an  apostle,  and  he  elsewhere  teaches  that 
love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law  —  the  very  law  which  requires 
all  our  duties,  and  is  "  exceeding  broad."  "We  are  assured 
that  all  gifts  of  tongues  and  of  prophecy,  all  knowledge  and 
faith,  all  outward  virtues  are  nothing,  and  profit  nothing, 
without  love.  They  may  be  the  body  of  virtue,  but  love  is 
the  soul  of  it.  They  may  be  the  concomitants  of  virtue,  but 
love  is  its  essence.  We  are  informed  that  the  end  of  the 
commandment  —  its  final  purpose,  its  ultimate  design,  to 
which  all  the  parts  of  it  aim  and  point  —  is  love,  not  by  any 
means  an  involuntary  kindness,  but  a  free,  loving  choice. 
The  most  spiritual  expounder  of  the  divine  law  has  taught 
us  that  "this  is  the  first  and  great  commandment:  Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all 


158  ALL   THE   MORAL   ATTRIBUTES   OF  GOD 

thy  soul,  and  with  all  tliy  mind  ;  and  the  second  is  like  unto 
it :  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyseK.  On  these  two 
commandments  hang  all  the  law  and  the  prophets."  \Vhere 
there  is  no  comprehensive  love,  no  benignant  election  of  the 
general  welfare,  there  may  be  amiable  instincts,  beautiful 
sentiments,  but  there  is  no  true  moral  goodness.  It  is  the 
first  and  the  last  teaching  of  the  Bible,  —  on  the  surface  of 
it  and  in  the  depths  of  it,  —  that  the  highest  of  all  virtues  is 
the  choice  of  God  as  our  supreme  object  of  regard ;  and  if 
there  be  any  other  commandment,  it  is  briefly  comprehended 
in  this  saying :  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself." 

2.  An  examination  of  the  nature  of  God's  moral  attributes 
gives  a  second  proof  that  they  are  all  involved  in  the  choice 
of  the  general  welfare.  What  are  these  attributes  ?  One  of 
them  is  a  voluntary  regard  for  the  happiness  of  beings  con- 
sidered as  merely  sentient.  This  is  unmodified  benevo- 
lence. Another  moral  perfection  still  more  attractive  is  a 
love  for  the  happiness  of  beings  considered  as  miserable. 
This  is  mercy,  and  this  is  benevolence  combined  with  constitu- 
tional pity,  and  the  holiness  of  it  lies  in  the  voluntary  good- 
will rather  than  in  the  mere  natural  compassion.  A  yet 
brighter  moral  attribute  of  God  is  a  regard  for  the  welfare 
of  beings  considered  as  evil-doers.  This  is  grace,  and  this 
is  benevolence  associated  with  a  natural  disapprobation  of 
wrong,  and  the  holiness  of  it  consists  in  the  free  benevolence, 
rather  than  in  the  disapproving  act  of  conscience. 

One  adorable  moral  attribute  of  Jehovah  is  holiness  viewed 
as  love  toward  all  that  is  morally  right  and  as  hatred  toward 
all  that  is  morally  wrong  ;  viewed  as  love  toward  benevolence, 
not  merely  because  benevolence  is  connected  with  happiness, 
but  also  because  it  is  a  good  in  its  own  nature ;  viewed  as 
hatred  toward  malevolence,  not  merely  because  malevolence 
is  adverse  to  happiness,  but  also  because  it  is  an  evil  in  its 
own  nature.  Now  the  benevolence  of  Jehovah  comprehends 
a  love  for  all  that  is  good,  and  benevolence  is  itself  a  good, — 


AEE  COMPREHENDED  IN  HIS  LOVE.  159 

its  very  name  is  moral  goodness.  The  benevolence  of  Jehovah 
comprehends  a  hatred  of  all  that  is  evil,  and  malevolence  is 
itself  an  evil,  —  its  very  name  is  moral  evil.  As  the  love  ex- 
ercised by  Jehovah  is  a  choice  of  the  general  rather  than  of 
a  private  good,  so  its  alternate  form  is  a  rejection  of  the 
private  rather  than  of  the  general  good.  His  hatred  of  sin 
is  in  its  essence  the  same  virtue  as  his  preference  for  the 
greater  above  the  smaller  well-being  of  the  universe,  himself 
included  in  the  universe.  His  hatred  of  wrong  is  the  same 
virtue  with,  and  is  only  the  alternate  form  of,  his  love  of 
right ;  and  right  though  connected  with  happiness  is  distinct 
from  and  nobler  than  mere  happiness,  as  wrong  though  con- 
nected with  misery  is  distinct  from  and  worse  than  simple 
misery.     Thus  the  holiness  of  God  is  a  form  of  benevolence. 

Another  of  his  moral  attributes  is  justice.  Is  this  a  form  of 
love  ?  As  the  benevolence  of  God  is  an  elective  preference 
for  the  higher  above  the  lower  kind,  and  for  the  larger  above 
the  smaller  amount,  of  the  general  well-being,^  so  in  its  very 
nature  it  involves  a  choice  to  bestow  a  reward  upon  all  who 
strictly  deserve  and  can  fitly  claim  to  be  rewarded  for  exer- 
cising the  same  kind  of  preference,  and  it  also  involves  a 
choice  to  inflict  a  punishment  upon  all  who  remain  under 
law,  and  who  deserve  to  be  punished  for  exercising  the 
contrary  preference.  As  the  love  of  right  has  for  its  alternate 
form  a  hatred  of  wrong,  so  the  choice  to  bestow  a  reward 
upon  those  who  strictly  deserve  and  can  justly  claim  to 
be  rewarded  has  for  its  alternate  form  a  choice  to  inflict  a 
punishment  upon  those  who  while  under  law  deserve  to  be 
punished.  It  is  very  true  that  God  does  not  look  upon  our 
holiness  as  entitled  on  the  ground  of  its  own  merit  to  the 

1  Some  writers  appear  to  make  a  distinction  between  "  ivelfare "  and  "  well- 
being" ;  to  use  "  welfare"  as  generic,  including  both  happiness  which  they  terra 
"well-6c!"n7"  and  also  moral  goodness  which  they  term  welWo//?/;."  The  dis- 
tinction is  convenient  and  deserves  to  be  considered,  but  it  is  not  adopted 
generally.  The  happiness  is  so  indissolubly  connected  with  the  moral  "  well- 
doing," and  the  liighest  form  of  happiness  is  so  inextricably  involved  in  the  pro- 
cess of  this  "well-doing,"  that  the  two  conditions  are  both  expressed  by  the 
word  "  well-being  "  as  synonymous  with  the  word  "  welfare." 


160  ALL  THE  MORAL   ATTRIBUTES  OP  GOD 

recompense  of  happiness.  If  he  did  look  upon  it  as  having 
this  merit  of  condignity,  his  will  to  bestow  the  deserved 
recompense  would  be  comprehended  in  good-will  to  the 
universe.  But  he  does  look  upon  our  sin  as  in  its  own  nature 
deserving  the  recompense  of  pain  ;  his  will  to  inflict  this 
merited  recompense  is  not  ill-will  to  the  universe  ;  it  is  good 
will.  The  volition  to  inflict  a  just  penalty  on  a  foe  to  the 
common  good  has  the  same  nature  with  a  volition  to  bestow 
a  strictly  just  reward  on  a  friend  to  the  common  good.  The 
two  volitions  are  the  positive  and  negative  poles  of  one 
comprehensive  choice.  Thus  our  Ruler  is  comprehensively 
benevolent  in  being  just.  He  is  just,  not  in  despite  of,  but 
on  account  of,  his  benevolence.  His  will  to  punish  trans- 
gressors according  to  their  demerit  is  attended  with  dis- 
placency  and  indignation  toward  moral  evil ;  but  these  senti- 
ments are  the  guard  and  the  outward  majesty,  rather  than 
the  essence,  of  the  virtue  that  is  admired  in  the  justice.^ 

Yet  another  moral  attribute  of  the  Most  High  is  veracity. 
And  is  this  love  ?  It  is  a  choice  to  promote  the  natural  or 
moral  welfare  of  beings  by  using  the  signs  of  thought  in 
exact  conformity  with  the  thought  itself.  What,  then,  is 
this  attribute  more  than  a  preference  for  the  dignity  and 
virtue  of  all  beings  capable  of  dignity  and  virtue ;  the  pre- 
ference being  associated  with  and  adorned  by  an  involuntary, 
and  therefore  not  a  moral,  sense  of  fitness  ? 

These  are  the  divine  attributes  which  consist  in  the  re- 
sponsible exercise  of  free  will.  They  are  modifications  of  one 
generic  choice  animating  the  different  sensibilities  associated 
with  it. 

3.  The  past  history  of  God's  dispensations  gives  a  third 
proof  that  all  his  moral  excellences  are  comprehended  in  his 
choice  of  the  general  well-being.  His  entire  character  is  in- 
dicated when  the  Omnipotent  Monarch  converses  with  Moses 
like  a  friend,  becomes  as  intimate  with  David  as  if  he  were 

^  See  Note  at  the  end  of  the  Sermon,  pp.  176  sq. 


ARE  COMPREHENDED  IN  HIS  LOVE.  161 

only  an  equal  to  a  shepherd  boy,  dries  up  the  tears  of  Jere- 
miah, and  as  a  mother  tends  her  children  so  does  he  fold 
all  the  prophets  in  his  embrace.  There  are  acts  of  God 
which,  because  they  have  other  natural  elements,  appear  to 
have  some  other  moral  element  than  that  of  good-will.  The 
sensibilities  connected  with  his  affection  for  men  when  they 
do  right  are  different  from  the  sensibilities  connected  with 
his  aversion  to  them  when  they  do  wrong;  but  the  moral 
principle  in  both  exercises  is  the  same.  It  was  primarily 
because  he  yearned  with  an  infinite  kindness  over  the  ante- 
diluvian world  that,  in  the  simple  language  of  inspiration, 
the  sight  of  human  depravity  made  him  repent  that  he  had 
created  man,  and  grieved  him  at  his  heart.  It  was  originally 
because  he  cherished  a  pure  love  for  those  transgressors  that 
he  hated  their  waste  of  probationary  time  in  eating  and 
drinking,  without  care  or  thought  of  spiritual  truth.  It  was 
first  because  he  delighted  in  the  spiritual  peace  of  society 
that  he  abhorred  the  race  by  whom  the  earth  was  filled 
with  violence.  It  was  because  his  benevolence  prompted 
him  to  check  the  tide  of  their  corruption  that  he  poured  the 
flood  upon  them,  and  made  their  sudden  overthrow  a  motive 
to  deter  future  generations  from  their  imbruted  life.  The 
retributions  which  he  sent  upon  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  were 
effluences  of  his  choice  to  promote  the  highest  welfare 
of  his  universe.  Had  hq  not  preferred  their  well-being,  he 
would  not  have  loathed  their  belittling  usages  ;  and  had  he 
not  chosen  to  prevent  the  contagion  of  their  sin,  he  would 
not  have  buried  up  their  cities,  even  as  a  pest-house  is  con- 
sumed when  its  very  atmosphere  becomes  infectious.  And 
with  what  signs  of  tenderness  is  all  this  needful  discipline 
relieved  !  "  Shall  I  hide  from  Abraham  that  thing  which  I 
do  ? "  said  the  kind  Father,  who  would  never  have  raised  his 
hand  against  his  children,  unless  their  sin  against  him  had 
been  very  grievous.  And  does  not  the  confiding  language 
of  Abraham  attest  his  intimate  conviction  that  the  just  Judge 
is  ever  benignant  ?    For  with  what  a  childlike  trust  does  the 


162  ALL   THE   MORAL   ATTRIBUTES   OF  GOD 

patriarch  intercede  with  his  Maker :  '  Wilt  thou  destroy  the 
righteous  with  the  wicked?  That  be  far  from  thee  to  do 
after  this  manner.  Peradventure  there  shall  lack  five  of  the 
fifty  righteous,  wilt  thou  destroy  all  the  city  for  the  lack  of 
five  ? '  And  he  to  whom  punishment  is  a  strange  work 
reveals  his  character  in  the  reply  :  '  If  there  be  ten  righteous 
found  in  the  city,  I  will  not  destroy  it  for  ten's  sake.'  So 
generous  are  the  compassions  of  the  Lord,  that  when  he 
threatened  the  men  of  Nineveh  with  dire  ruin,  he  was  quick 
to  pardon  them  at  their  incipient  reformation.  Inimitable 
was  the  sympathy  which  flowed  from  him  as  he  pleaded  with 
the  unyielding  prophet  in  behalf  of  these  guilty  men,  and 
justified  his  readiness  to  forgive  their  sins  and  relieve  their 
terrors  :  "  And  should  I  not  spare  that  great  city,  wherein 
are  more  than  six  score  thousand  persons  that  cannot  dis- 
cern between  their  right  hand  and  their  left  hand,  and  also 
much  cattle  ? "  He  hesitates  to  overthrow  the  magnificent 
palaces  inhabited  by  transgressors  whose  hearts  are  harder 
than  the  marble  in  which  they  live,  because  round  about  those 
palaces  are  the  mute  animals  which  his  love  has  called  into 
life,  and  in  his  love  they  all  live  and  breathe.  Manifold  are 
the  developments  of  divine  justice,  some  of  which  have  caused 
the  ears  of  the  men  who  heard  them  to  tingle  ;  but  the  spirit 
of  them  all  is  illustrated  in  that  one  deed  of  the  Holy  and 
Just  One,  who  "  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  only 
begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not 
perish,  but  have  everlasting  life."  Herein  is  love,  —  justice 
also,  but  justice  involving  the  moral  element  of  love,  —  not 
that  we  loved  God,  but  that  he  loved  us,  and  sent  his  Son  to 
be  the  propitiation  for  our  sins,  with  which  sins  he  is  most 
fully  displeased,  but  over  which  he  chooses  that  his  grace 
reign  triumphant. 

III.  Having  now  considered  the  meaning  of  our  text  and 
the  proof  of  the  doctrine  involved  in  it,  let  us,  thirdly,  con- 
sider some  of  the  practical  truths  which  result  from  it. 


ARE  COMPREHENDED  IN  HIS  LOTE.  163 

1.  The  doctrine  suggests  the  unity  of  God's  character  and 
government.  All  the  varying  tones  of  an  anthem  delight  us, 
when  we  catch  the  one  sentiment  which  vivifies  them.  We 
are  charmed  with  the  cathedral,  whose  choir,  nave,  turrets, 
have  such  fitnesses  to  each  other  as  to  make  an  undivided 
impression.  The  planetary  system  we  admire  for  the  simple 
force  which  controls  its  movements.  All  the  works  of  the 
great  Architect  afford  a  symbol  of  the  unity  which  exists  in 
himself.  One  great  principle  permeates  the  phenomena  of 
the  suns  and  the  stars,  just  as  a  single  moral  feeling  is  ex- 
pressed in  the  countless  acts  of  Him  who  develops  his  unity 
even  in  his  material  creations.  Much  more  does  he  exhibit 
a  oneness  in  his  law.  Beautiful  is  the  simplicity  of  all  his 
commandments.  As  he  requires  that  we  love  sentient  beings, 
so  he  is  consistent  with  himseK,  and  requires  a  special  love 
for  his  own  offspring,  who  are  the  objects  of  his  kind  care, 
and  who  are  made  in  his  image,  a  part  of  which  they  still 
retain.  There  is  a  wise  proportion  in  the  mandate,  With  all 
thy  heart  shalt  thou  love  the  Infinite  One,  who  encloses  the 
universe  in  his  affection,  and  as  thyseK  shalt  thou  love  thy 
neighbor,  who  is  finite,  and  has  no  claim  on  all  thy  heart 
and  soul  and  mind  and  strength,  but  is  presumed  to  be  thine 
equal  in  merit,  and  is  accordingly  to  be  loved  as  thyself.  The 
harmony  which  pervades  the  character  of  God  moves  him  to 
call  for  our  repentance.  For  what  is  repentance  ?  It  is  a 
hatred  for  our  sin,  and  involves  a  sorrow  for  it.  And  what  has 
been  our  sin  ?  It  has  been  a  choice  of  something  other  than 
the  highest  good.  Our  voluntary  hatred  of  this  choice,  then, 
is  but  another  form  of  our  love  to  the  highest  good  ;  and  this 
is  our  benevolence,  as  well  as  our  repentance,  and  is  in 
beautiful  agreement  with  the  character  of  Him  who  hateth 
all  opposition  to  the  social  and  moral  improvement  of  the 
universe.  If  wc  mourn  over  our  iniquities,  we  must  rely  for 
our  eternal  life  on  him  who  died  for  them.  But  this  reliance 
is  mere  presumption,  unless  it  be  prompted  by  love,  and 
commingled  with  it.     Accordingly,  God  requires  faith,  —  not 


164  ALL   THE  MORAL   ATTRIBUTES    OF  GOD 

the  faith  which  is  a  tinkling  cymbal,  being  devoid  of  charity, 
but  the  faith  which  clings  with  affection  to  the  atoning  Sac- 
rifice ;  the  affectionatencss  of  the  faith  embracing  that  moral 
principle  which  in  the  Biblical  style  is  called  love,  and  in  the 
style  of  some  divines  is  called  a  supreme  choice  of  God,  of 
his  character,  of  his  moral  government.  Being  commanded 
to  believe  in  Christ,  we  are  also  commanded  to  exercise  forti- 
tude, courage,  submission,  patience,  perseverance  ;  not  merely 
to  feel  the  sentiments  which  fit  us  to  encounter  and  endure 
pain,  —  these  are  cherished  by  savages,  by  unrenewed,  ob- 
durate transgressors,  —  but  to  put  forth  the  moral  preferences 
which  fit  us  to  do  and  bear  all  things  so  that  we  may  please 
him  whom  we  love  because  he  hath  first  loved  us. 

And  as  our  one  Sovereign  has  thus  prescribed  for  us  a 
symmetrical  code  of  precepts,  so  has  he  offered  heaven  to 
us  on  conditions  congruous  Avith  one  another.  He  tries 
every  inducement  in  varying  the  phases  of  the  one  principle 
that  he  who  believeth  shall  be  saved.  He  proffers  heaven 
to  us  on  the  condition  that  we  visit  the  fatherless  and  the 
widow  in  their  affliction,  that  we  relieve  the  solitude  of  the 
prisoner,  put  garments  on  the  unclothed,  welcome  the  stranger 
to  our  fireside,  supply  the  hungry  with  bread,  reach  out  the 
cup  of  cold  water  to  one  who  is  athirst,  —  all  these  charities 
being  performed  with  such  a  love  for  the  destitute  as  is 
proportioned  to  their  worth,  and  such  a  love  for  their  Maker 
as  agrees  with  his  supreme  claims.  Whosoever  shall  keep 
the  least  of  the  commandments  shall  not  lose  his  reward, 
even  as  he  who  offends  in  one  point  violates  the  whole  law. 
Not  more  obvious  is  it  that  one  vital  force  extends  through 
every  nerve,  vein,  artery,  of  the  body  than  is  the  fact  that 
one  principle  vitalizes  the  entire  law  and  the  entire  gospel. 

It  is  in  consequence  of  this  one  principle  that  all  the  condi- 
tions on  which  our  eternal  welfare  is  suspended  may  be  easily 
understood.  Each  one  explains  every  other.  Children,  who 
learn  the  meaning  of  a  hard  word  by  its  connection  with  a  plain 
one,  catch  the  significance  of  a  recondite  part  of  the  law  by 


ARE  COMPREHENDED  IN  HIS  LOVE.  165 

its  union  with  the  single  element  of  love  which  pervades  the 
entire  law.  The  wayfaring  man,  though  a  fool,  need  not 
err  in  regard  to  the  way  of  salvation ;  for  whatever  might 
be  dark  if  insulated  borrows  light  from  its  adjuncts  —  they 
all  shining  in  the  radiance  of  love. 

Heartily,  then,  do  we  rejoice  in  the  assurance  not  only 
that  there  is  one  God,  but  that  God  is  one  in  his  moral  attri- 
butes. Our  mind  is  lilie  a  sea,  whose  waters  are  restless 
even  in  their  lowest  depths.  We  have  tendencies  in  our 
inferior  nature  warring  against  the  higher  principles  of  our 
being.  Our  life  is  a  struggle,  a  wrestle,  a  fight  of  affliction. 
We  crucify  ourselves  in  the  combat  with  our  inward  foes. 
But  we  rejoice  that  there  is  a  mind  free  from  the  complexities 
and  discrepancies  that  mar  our  character ;  having  no  inward 
strife  to  quell,  no  intestine  contradictions  to  reconcile,  no 
disparities  nor  inaptitudes  to  subdue.  We  are  calmed  by 
the  announcement,  "  I  am  that  I  am  "  ;  for  this  indicates  an 
elevation  above  all  inward  fears ;  and  the  heavenly  rest 
begins  in  our  hearts  when  we  drink  in  the  full,  conciliating, 
alluring  words,  "  God  is  love." 

2.  The  fact  that  all  the  moral  attributes  of  Jehovah  are 
comprised  in  benevolence  shows  that  he  is  amiable  amid 
his  severest  dispensations.  Men  have  imagined  that  his 
benignity  is  incompatible  with  the  infliction  of  pain.  They 
have  supposed  his  love  to  be  an  easiness  of  spirit,  an  unintel- 
ligent aversion  to  all  forms  of  distress.  Will  a  sensitive 
father,  it  is  asked,  consign  his  own  offspring  to  perpetual 
agony  ?  Can  a  mother  endure,  will  she  willingly  allow,  the 
sufferings  of  her  babe  ?  To  God,  his  creatures  are  dearer 
than  are  children  to  an  earthly  parent,  and  will  he  afflict 
them  ?  But  the  benevolence  of  our  spiritual  parent  is  not 
an  irrational  partiality  for  our  race.  It  were  degraded  by 
confounding  it  with  an  instinctive  liking,  a  constitutional, 
sympathetic  fondness.  It  is  a  remark  of  Leighton  :  "  God 
governs  the  world  as  a  father,  not  as  a  mother."     His  love  is 


166  ALL   THE   MORAL   ATTRIBUTES   OF  GOD 

an  intelligent  affection,  not  for  one  man,  not  for  one  family 
or  tribe  or  race  or  world,  but  for  all  beings  who  can  think  or 
feel ;  a  preference  for  the  system  above  a  small  part  thereof ; 
for  the  general  happiness  above  an  individual's  pleasure  ;  for 
the  common  holiness  above  the  universal  enjoyment.  High 
as  the  heavens  above  the  earth  is  the  benevolence  of  God 
above  an  indifference  to  the  virtue  of  men,  —  above  a 
willingness  that  they  seek  first  their  own  comfort  even  if 
they  must  find  it  in  selfish  aims.  What  though  a  doting 
parent  connives  at  the  trangressions  of  his  childen  rather 
than  discompose  their  spirits  which  ought  to  be  disturbed  in 
their  guilty  course  ?  The  government  of  our  Heavenly  Father 
is  more  extended  than  that  of  a  family  on  earth  ;  it  reaches 
the  bounds  of  the  universe ;  it  therefore  requires  more  care 
in  preventing  sin  ;  it  extends  to  the  heart ;  it  is  a  deep  moral 
government ;  it  has  access  to  all  sources  of  evidence ;  it  is 
able  to  adapt  its  penalties  to  all  forms  of  evil ;  then  it  is  not 
to  be  debased  by  accomodating  it  to  the  superficial,  outward, 
ephemeral  policy  of  a  narrow  household,  or  of  a  nation. 

Besides,  imperfect  and  shallow  as  are  the  principles  of 
domestic  and  civil  government,  a  wise  benevolence  does  not 
allow  that  even  this  government  pass  by,  with  an  easy  good 
nature,  the  crimes  which  it  can  detect.  It  is  no  true  friendship 
for  society  to  dispense  with  penal  enactments.  What  chaos 
reigns  in  a  family,  where  the  sons  prove  vile,  and  the  father 
restrains  them  not.  What  havoc  would  overspread  our  land, 
if  our  laws  with  their  righteous  penalties  did  not  stay  the 
irruption  of  crime.  Not  a  street  but  assassins  would  infest 
it,  not  a  dwelling  but  incendiaries  would  bury  its  sleeping  in- 
mates under  its  ashes  —  if  the  strong  arm  of  the  magistrate 
were  not  raised  in  kindness  to  the  widow  and  the  orphan, 
protecting  them  and  their  possessions  from  the  assault,  shield- 
ing also  their  spirits  from  fear  of  vagabonds  and  marauders. 
All  this  is  but  a  crude  symbol  of  the  beneficence  which  lifts 
up  the  standard  of  law  for  the  universe.  If  the  petty  sover- 
eignties of  the  earth  must  raise  walls  of  protection  around 


ARE   COMPREHENDED   IN   HIS  LOVE.  167 

the  homes  of  men,  and  guard  the  sick  and  the  weak  from 
the  knife  of  the  freebooter,  how  much  more  imperative  is 
the  need  that  a  vigilant  dominion    be  established  over  the 
entire  system  of  moral  agents  ;   that  merited   penalties  be 
held  out  for  the  transgressors  in  our  world,  so  as  to  secure 
the  innocence  of  nobler  spirits  in  higher  worlds ;  that  incor- 
rigible sinners  now  existing  l)e  punished  as  they  deserve  in 
order  to  accumulate   new  persuasives  to  holiness  upon  the 
minds  which  are  to  exist  in  all  future  duration.     Even  if  the 
contracted  and  external  institutions  of  men  could  be  safely 
left  to  the  principles  of  non-resistance  —  debilitating  princi- 
ples, enervating,  emasculating,  —  still  the  larger  and  spiritual 
dominion  of  the  Universal  Monarch  demands  that  the  wicked 
shall  by  no  means  go  unpunished.     Therefore  it  is  the  benev- 
olence of  Jehovah  which  leads  him  to  be  severe.    Penalties  he 
must  threaten  in  order  to  arrest  the  inroads  of  sin,  for  sin  is 
ruin  ;  and  what  he  threatens  he  must  inflict,  for  he  is  vera- 
cious, and  his  inflictions  will  secure  the  tempted  from  the 
guilt  into  which  they  would  otherwise  plunge.     To  the  right 
hand,  further  than  the  imagination  can  wander;  to  the  left 
hand,  beyond  the  reach  of  the  quickest  and  most  extended 
thought,  above  us  and  below  us,  behind  us  and  before  us, 
through  all  time  and  eternity,  do  the  influences  of  his  govern- 
ment penetrate.     His  laws  affect  all  spirits  that  have  been, 
are,  or  are  to  be.     If  a  single  edict  should  be  repealed,  or  a 
single  penalty  mitigated,  he  foresees  the  havoc  which  would 
ensue,  and  his  kindness  forbids  the  abrogation  of  a  single 
iota  of  his  commands.     He  is  touched  with  pity  for  his  frail 
children,  who  need  all  allowable  motives  to  deter  them  from 
apostasy.     He  will  afflict  his  enemies  because  he  chooses  to 
defend  the  cause  of  virtue  against  their  machinations,  and 
he  will  banish  them  from  his  presence,  so  that  the  good  and 
the  kind,  who  will  be  the  real  majority  of  his  universe,  may 
be  at  peace.     There  shall   nothing  hurt  the  conscience  or 
destroy  the  spirit  of  repose  in  the  heavenly  Jerusalem ;  but 
all  shall  be  serene,  and  he  who  is  love  shall  reign  in  the 
affection  of  all  the  wise. 


168  ALL   THE   MORAL   ATTRIBUTES   OF   GOD 

3.  The  concentration  of  all  God's  moral  attributes  in  love 
illustrates  the  guilt  and  misery  of  incorrigible  transgressors. 
In  modern  as  well  as  ancient  poetry,  we  read  of  the  human 
conscience  as  unpitying,  unrelenting,  cruel,  revengeful,  tor- 
menting the  malefactor  with  a  scorpion  lash.  Of  all  such 
epithets  we  say  that  they  are  poetry  ;  they  have  a  deep 
meaning ;  they  imply  that  the  conscience  is  just,  is  our 
highest  inward  authority,  deserves  our  obedience,  our  hom- 
age. The  epithets  are  so  strong  because  the  moral  sense  is 
so  important  and  exalted.  It  is  our  best  friend ;  and  faithful 
are  the  wounds  of  a  friend.  Men  do  not  lose  their  venera- 
tion for  the  moral  faculty  because  the  poets  array  it  in  robes 
of  terror.  Why  then  should  they  lose  their  confidence  in 
God  because  the  inspired  poets  tell  us  of  his  fury,  jealousy, 
vengeance,  the  fierceness  of  his  wrath  ;  his  sword,  arrows ; 
his  laughing  at  his  adversaries  ?  As  we  know  that  bold 
figures  of  speech  are  employed  for  expressing  the  reproofs  of 
our  inward  monitor  which  is  a  correlate  to  the  divine  justice, 
why  do  we  wonder  that  bold  figures  are  employed  for  express- 
ing the  normal  activity  of  the  justice  itseK  ?  These  figures 
impress  upon  us  two  momentous  truths.  One  is  that  Jeho- 
vah has  the  constitutional  sentiment  of  indignation  against 
sin ;  another  is  that  he  opposes  iniquity  by  such  manifestations 
of  his  abhorrence  as  cannot  be  intimated  in  literal  speech. 
Human  language  is  inadequate  to  indicate  the  depth  of  his 
love  for  the  right  and  his  hatred  of  the  wrong.  He  is  said  to 
be  angry  as  he  is  said  to  repent.  The  words  have  an  unut- 
terable meaning.  Perhaps  no  others  would  be  so  impressive 
upon  the  human  race  as  a  whole.  They  suggest  what  no 
tongue  can  possibly  express.  "We  must  remember  that  even 
in  our  best  descriptions  of  the  Most  High 

"  Thought  is  deeper  than  all  speech, 
Feeling  deeper  than  all  thought." 

Our  text  assures  us,  however,  that  no  unhallowed,  no  bitter 
feeling  ever  rises  in  the  divine  mind.  That  mind  is  love. 
Tliat  mind,  however,  has  enemies.     These  enemies  demean 


ARE   COMPREHENDED   IN    HIS   LOVE.  •    169 

themselves  as  if  their  Ruler  were  tyrannical  and  cruel.     A 
stranger  to  them  would  not  imagine  that  they  were  resisting  a 
benefactor,  a  friend  faithful  in  their  need,  an  ever-watchful 
guardian,  more  than  a  parent,  very  pitiful,  and  of  tender  mercy. 
The  aggravation  of  their  guilt  is  that  they  are  in  conflict  with 
goodness  itseK  ;  they  are  in  direct  antagonism  to  the  imper- 
sonation of  all  pure  friendship  ;  they  recoil  from  a  being  who 
not  only  loves  them  but  is  the  sum  of  love.     They  reject  him 
not  only  while  he  is  benevolence,  but  because  he  is  impartial 
benevolence.     If  he  would  love  the  few  more  than  the  many, 
and  if  they  themselves  were  among  these  few,  they  would  not 
reject  him.    If  he  would  sacrifice  the  general  welfare  to  their 
own  sinister  aims,  they  would  not  rebel  against  him.     But  he 
prefers  the  higher  to  the  lower  interests,  the  welfare  of  the 
many  to  that  of  the  few ;  he  chooses  to  promote  the  holy  bliss 
of  heaven,  and  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  stars  of  heaven,  rather 
than  to  accommodate  the  narrow  policy  of  selfish  men ;  there- 
fore selfish  men  discard  him.     If  we  had  not  known  him  to 
be  love  itself,  we  had  been  comparatively  without  sin ;  but 
now  we  have  seen  and  known  both  him  and  his  Son,  who  is 
the  express  image  of  the  Father's  love,  and  hence  our  sin 
remaineth.     The  demerit  of  it  he  has  measured.     He  has 
declared  that  unending  punishment  is  the  fit  exponent  of  the 
sinner's  ill-desert.     He  hateth  nothing  which  he  hath  made. 
He  doth  not  afflict  willingly.     He  heareth  the  young  ravens 
when  they  are  in  want.     He  counteth  the  tears  that  are  to 
flow  from  men.     He  is  unwilling  that  any  of  his  creatures 
should  heave  a  sigh.     He  is  slow  to  elicit  one  groan.     He 
hath  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  an  enemy.     He  chooseth 
that  all  come  to  him  and  dwell  in  bliss.     But  with  all  these 
yearnings  of  a  Father's  heart,  he  avers  that  the  demerit  of 
sin  cannot  be  fully  manifested  except  by  setting  over  against 
it  the  pain  which  is  never  to  end.     In  his  grace  and  long- 
suffering  he  has  forewarned  us  of  our  peril ;  he  has  not  taken 
us  by  surprise ;  in  his  equity  he  has  held  out  before  us  the 
balances  in  which  our  sin  is  laid,  —  in  one  scale  a  rejection 


170  ALL  THE  MOEAL  ATTRIBUTES  OF  GOD 

of  his  love ;  in  the  other,  an  eternity  of  woe,  —  the  very  woe 
which  he,  of  all  other  beings,  is  the  most  unwilling  to  inflict, 
—  unwilling  because  he  is  love ;  and  still  he  does  inflict  it 
because  he  is  impartial,  wise,  just  love. 

Here,  then,  is  the  divine  estimate  of  our  blameworthiness. 
We  may  underrate  it,  but  the  omniscient  Judge  has  gauged 
it  accurately.  We  are  partial  to  our  own  character,  but  his 
affection  even  for  us  transcends  our  own  self-love.  He  then 
cannot  exaggerate  our  turpitude ;  and  the  estimate  which 
has  been  formed  of  it  by  his  boundless  wisdom  is  one  which 
his  boundless  compassion  is  slow  to  express,  for  punishment 
is  his  last  work ;  at  the  day  of  judgment  the  condemning 
sentence  is  the  last  sentence.  If  he  were  literally  revenge- 
ful, his  punitive  sentence  might  be  borne.  If  he  delighted  in 
the  misery  of  his  offspring,  they  would  buoy  themselves  up 
against  him,  and  their  sense  of  right  would  alleviate  their 
distress.  But  it  is  not  an  enemy  that  afiflicts  them,  and  this 
is  the  emphasis  of  their  grief.  Their  sorrows  come  from  him 
who  has  cried  :  How  shall  I  give  thee  up  ?  why  will  ye  die  ? 
I  have  no  pleasure  in  your  loss. 

This  is  the  depressing  thought  ever  weighing  down  the 
soul  of  the  condemned.  '  We  are  punished  by  him  who  had 
never  disturbed  our  peace  but  for  the  universal  well-being. 
We  are  in  heaviness  of  heart,  because  he  who  once  bare  long 
with  us  could  endure  our  rebellion  no  longer.  Our  weariness 
cometh  from  the  displeasure  of  one  who  is  never  displeased 
save  by  evil.  Our  own  reason  is  our  first  accuser.  Our  own 
conscience  is  our  first  avenger.  Here  is  the  proof  of  our 
vileness  :  We  have  caused  our  own  troubles,  and  our  Friend 
who  is  ever  compassionate  is  not  allowed  by  his  infinite  good- 
ness to  relieve  us  from  them,  and  his  reason  for  continuing 
to  inflict  them  is,  that  he  is  watching  for  the  welfare  of  his 
system.'  The  Omniscient  Mind  expresses  the  wonderfulness 
of  our  disregard  for  the  welfare  of  this  system  when  he  says : 
"  Hear,  0  heavens,  and  give  car,  0  earth  ;  for  the  Lord  hath 
spoken  ;  I  have  nourished  and  brought  up  children,  and  they 


ABE  COMPREHENDED  IN  HIS  LOVE.  171 

have  rebelled  against  me.  Be  astonished,  0  je  heavens,  at 
this,  and  be  horribly  afraid,  be  ye  very  desolate,  saith  the 
Lord.  For  my  people  have  committed  two  evils  ;  they  have 
forsaken  me,  the  fountain  of  living  waters,  and  hewed  them 
out  cisterns,  broken  cisterns,  that  can  hold  no  water."  ^ 

4.  Tlic  fact  that  all  the  moral  attributes  of  God  are 
concentrated  in  his  love  quickens,  strengthens,  and  deepens 
our  confidence  in  his  government.  One  class  of  men  have 
complained  of  his  goverment  as  it  is  seen  in  the  sphere  of 
nature.  They  have  described  the  myriads  of  animals  which 
have  preyed  upon  each  other,  and  have  been  at  last  devoured 
by  their  antagonists.  They  have  portrayed  the  multitude  of 
diseases  which  have  afflicted  us  and  our  j)rogenitors,  and  which 
have  made  it  fearful  to  live,  while  it  has  been  more  fearful  to 
die.  Another  class  of  men  have  complained  of  the  divine 
administration  as  it  is  exhibited  in  the  Bible.  They  have 
stigmatized  some  Biblical  doctrines  as  hard  and  harsh.  They 
have  criticised  certain  sentiments  of  the  Psalmists  and  the 
prophets,  of  the  apostles  also,  and  even  of  our  blessed  Lord, 
as  implying  that  the  divine  government  is  arbitrary  or 
unkind.  No  more  plausible,  no  less  plausible,  objection  has 
been  made  against  the  natural,  than  against  the  supernatural, 
government  of  God.  Every  one  of  these  objections,  however, 
loses  its  force  just  so  far  as  we  have  proof  that  the  doctrine 
of  our  text  is  true.  Whatever  attribute  God  possesses  he 
possesses  in  an  infinite  degree  ;  and  if  we  are  truly  rational 
we  shall  adore  the  ways  of  infinite  love,  even  when  they  are 
past  finding  out. 

We  may  imagine  an  animalcule  spending  its  entire  life  in 
traversing  a  pillar  of  a  cathedral.  It  is  too  short-sighted  to 
see  the  other  pillars  of  the  edifice,  too  short-lived  to  climb  so 
far  as  to  the  arches  connecting  them.  It  has  no  conception 
of  the  arches  as  upheld  by  the  pillars  and  as  upholding  the 
roof ;  not  the  slightest  apprehension  of  the  cathedral  as  a 

1  Isa.  i.  2  ;  Jer.  ii.  12, 13. 


172  ALL   THE  MORAL   ATTRIBUTES   OF  GOD 

whole,  or  of  the  one  idea  embodied  in  its  nave,  transepts,  and 
spires.  We  may  imagine  this  animalcule  criticising  the 
marble  on  which  it  creeps ;  carping  at  the  mountains  upon  it 
so  difficult  to  ascend,  at  the  ravines  and  precipices  so  dan- 
gerous to  the  traveller;  fretting  against  the  maker  of  the 
marble  because  he  throws  needless  obstructions  into  the 
path  of  the  insect  which  has  but  a  single  day  to  live,  and  spends 
that  day  in  complaining.  Because  we  are  superior  to  the 
animalcule  we  find  it  hard  to  comprehend  its  criticisms.  We 
look  upon  the  stones  of  the  cathedral  as  smooth  and  polished  ; 
we  find  it  difficult  to  imagine  how  there  can  appear  to  be 
hills  and  valleys  in  the  marble ;  we  delight  in  the  pillars  and 
arches  as  harmonizing  with  each  oilier  and  with  the  spires ; 
we  are  charmed  with  the  spires  as  emphasizing  the  idea 
which  the  entire  edifice  expresses  —  the  idea  of  aspiration 
toward  the  heavens. 

Whenever  we  hear  the  infidel  inveighing  against  the  doc- 
trines which  are  built  into  the  temple  of  divine  truth,  we  are 
reminded  of  animalcules  finding  fault  with  the  cathedral.  In 
his  childhood  lie  looked  at  the  stars  as  they  seemed  to  be 
scattered  abroad  in  the  heavens,  and  he  did  not  discern  their 
relation  to  each  other,  their  order,  their  mutual  harmonies, 

—  satellite  balancing  satellite,  constellation  set  over  against 
constellation,  one  retinue  of  globes  exactly  adjusted  to  an- 
other retinue.  He  did  not  deem  himself  qualified  to  con- 
demn the  mechanism  of  the  heavens.  When,  however,  he 
arrives  at  man's  estate  he  does  not  shrink  from  criticising 
the  doctrines  of  the  Bible  as  if  he  comprehended  all  their 
vast  relations.  He  discovers  mountains  of  difficulty,  just  as 
the  ephemera  discovers  them  in  the  polished  stone.  He 
confines  his  view  to  one  or  another  doctrine  which  seems 
to  be  centrifugal,  and  does  not  expand  his  vision  to  the  cen- 
tripetal truth  which  liolds  all  the  other  truths  revolving  in 
harmony  around  it.     This  central  truth  is  that  God  is  love 

—  love  signally  manifest  in  God  incarnate,  pre-eminently 
manifest  in  the  Incarnate  One  at  the  hour  when  he  was  lifted 


ARE  COMPREHENDED  IN  HIS  LOVE.  173 

up  SO  as  to  draw  all  men  unto  him.  At  that  hour  of  his 
sacrifice  he  drew  all  the  truths  of  religion  around  him.  Wc 
need  not  deny,  we  should  rather  admit,  that  there  are  deep 
and  dark  mysteries  in  the  works  and  in  the  word  of  God. 
His  world  was  not  made  as  we  should  have  made  it,  and  his 
word  was  not  written  as  we  should  have  written  it.  If  they 
were  not  mysterious  in  many  of  their  aspects  they  would  not 
be  his  works  or  his  word.  There  is,  however,  a  light  shining 
around  and  above  the  mysteries.  There  is  such  prepon- 
derating evidence  for  his  goodness  that  we  should  explain 
all  opposing  signs  in  conformity  with  it.  "We  should  interpret 
the  obscure  by  the  plain,  and  not  the  plain  by  the  obscure. 
The  dark  events  of  the  world,  the  dark  statements  of  the 
Bible,  will  be  illumined  by  the  radiance  of  his  smile  when  we 
are  admitted  into  the  presence  of  him  who  is  infinite  love. 

5.  The  fact  that  all  God's  moral  attributes  are  com- 
prised in  his  benevolence  is  rich  in  its  allurements  to  a 
philanthropic  and  pious  life.  We  have  already  attended  to 
the  inspired  words  which  represent  sin  as  wonderful.^  It  is 
wonderful  because  the  incentives  to  holiness  are  so  powerful. 
Regarding  these  incentives  alone,  we  should  presume  that 
men  will  love  him  from  whom  cometh  down  every  perfect 
gift.  It  is  the  normal  tendency  of  love  to  insure  a  recipro- 
cated attachment.  If  you  wish  men  to  weep,  you  must  shed 
tears  in  their  presence;  if  you  desire  their  gratitude,  you 
must  bestow  favors  upon  them  ;  if  you  love  them,  you  expect 
that  they  will  love  you,  for  even  the  publicans  and  sinners 
return  the  affection  wliich  they  receive  from  their  fellow-men. 
Depraved  as  we  are,  we  still  retain  certain  constitutional 
principles  prompting  us  to  reciprocate  the  love  of  God  toward 
us.  Nothing  but  obdurate  and  entire  sinfulness  can  alto- 
gether resist  the  action  of  these  principles.  Conscience 
commands  and  urges  us  to  comply  with  them.  It  promises 
a  reward  for  obeying  them ;  it  threatens  a  punishment  for 

1  See  p.  170  above. 


174  ALL   THE   MORAL   ATTRIBUTES   OF   GOD 

disobeying  them ;  it  discerns  an  attractive  beauty  in  every 
line  and  feature  of  the  divine  character.  Our  judgment 
advises  that  we  consecrate  ourselves  to  the  service  of  him 
who  is  the  source  from  which  our  feebler  intelligence  is 
derived,  and  the  pattern  after  which  it  is  formed.  Self- 
interest  impels  to  the  union  with  the  Potentate  from  whom 
if  we  separate  ourselves  we  are  punished  from  the  presence 
of  the  Lord  and  the  glory  of  his  power. 

Various  qualities  have  been  prescribed  as  essential  to 
the  character  of  a  true  friend.  He  must  be  one  whom  we 
respect;  for  love  will  not  be  firm  unless  on  the  basis  of 
esteem.  But  our  supreme  love  for  God  is  favored  by  his 
worthiness,  not  of  our  mere  respect,  nor  of  our  mere  reverence, 
but  of  our  adoration.  A  friend  must  be  one  whose  attach- 
ment is  not  fickle,  capricious,  vacillating,  but  fit  for  our 
steady,  undeviating  reliance.  The  perfection  of  God's  love 
is  that  it  endures  from  everlasting  to  everlasting.  Its 
radiance  is  the  more  cheering  when  our  enemies  would  en- 
velop us  in  darkness.  In  our  desertion  this  friend  draweth 
the  nearer  to  us.  In  our  sorrow  he  smileth  upon  us  the 
more  chceringly.  Winning,  therefore,  are  our  motives  to 
make  him  our  chief  joy. 

But  to  love  him  is  to  be  like  him.  It  is  to  love  his  chil- 
dren. If  we  love  not  our  brother  whom  we  have  seen,  how 
can  we  love  God  whom  we  have  not  seen  ?  To  be  a  true 
philanthropist  is  to  intercede  with  God  in  behalf  of  our 
suffering  race ;  to  become  their  servant  for  Jesus'  sake ;  to 
copy  the  example  of  him  who  went  about  doing  good  —  who 
was  not  content  to  forgive  his  enemies,  but  he  labored,  suffered 
even  unto  death  for  them.  If  we  love  God  we  must  love 
men  when  we  know  them  to  be  undeserving  of  our  love,  for 
he  is  kind  to  the  unthankful ;  we  must  have  an  affection, 
strong,  firmly  grounded,  establisliod  on  principle,  for  enemies 
as  well  as  friends.  The  choice  of  Jehovah  as  our  supreme 
good  connects  us  not  only  with  our  own  race,  but  with  all 
orders  of  holy  intelligences  ;   for  they  are  all   emanations 


ARE   COMPREHENDED   IN    HIS  LOVE.  175 

from  Him  who  is  our  chief  joy.  We  and  they  are  all  mem- 
bers of  one  family,  looking  up  in  union  to  our  Father  which 
is  in  heaven. 

There  is  grandeur  in  many  scenes  in  nature.  Our  thoughts 
are  elevated  by  the  contemplation  of  the  worlds  revolving 
around  one  central  luminary,  receiving  from  it  light  and 
warmth,  and  seeming  to  yield  a  glad  obeisance  to  it  in  their 
quick  revolutions.  But  all  they  who  love  the  Lord  are  like 
the  stars  of  the  firmament,  and  shall  shine  forever  and  ever, 
he  irradiating  them  with  his  own  effulgence,  and  shedding 
a  warmth  over  and  around  them  from  his  own  centraliz- 
ing and  ever-flowing  kindness.  Evermore  shall  we  joy  in 
reflecting  the  brightness  of  his  glory.  Evermore  shall  we 
surround  his  throne,  shining  in  his  grace.  Here  is  a  new 
incentive  to  a  life  harmonizing  with  his  love.  They  who 
harmonize  with  it  in  this  world  are  sure  of  their  blessedness 
in  the  world  to  come  ;  and  the  certainty  of  this  blessedness 
allures  them  to  diligence  in  preparing  for  it.  "We  have  an 
instinctive  tendency  to  believe  that  at  last  truth  will  prevail, 
and  especially  that  love  will  triumph  over  its  enemies.  Once 
the  perfect  love  was  humiliated;  once  it  appeared  to  have 
been  conquered ;  but  its  seeming  defeat  was  the  ground  of 
its  ultimate  victory.  For  we  read  that '  He  who  was  in  the 
form  of  God  did  not  regard  it  as  a  prize  to  be  on  an  equality 
with  God,  but  emptied  himself,  and  took  the  form  of  a  servant, 
and  became  obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross ; 
and  for  this  reason  God  highly  exalted  him,  and  gave  unto 
him  the  name  which  is  above  every  name,  that  in  the  name 
of  Jesus  every  knee  should  bow,  and  every  tongue  confess  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  Lord  to  the  glory  of  God  the  Father.'  ^  On 
the  cross  our  Redeemer  exercised  his  atoning  love ;  his  future 
reign  is  the  result  of  his  atoning  death ;  this  atoning  death 
is  the  great  fact  of  the  divine  government ;  it  is  the  ground 
on  which  the  sacrifices  of  the  old   dispensation  were  pre- 

1  Phil.  ii.  5-11  ;  Heb.  ii.  9  sq. 


176  ALL   THE   MORAL   ATTRIBUTES   OF  GOD 

scribed,  and  oii  which  the  glories  of  the  new  dispensation 
are  to  be  perfected  ;  thus  it  is  the  central  fact  of  history  and 
the  central  truth  of  the  gospel.  If  here  we  are  co-workers 
with  our  Redeemer,  if  we  suffer  with  him,  we  shall  reign 
with  him  hereafter.  His  reign  is  to  be  the  unending  honor 
of  love.  His  character  is  an  ocean  of  love  in  which  we 
are  to  bathe,  an  atmosphere  of  love  which  we  are  to  breathe. 
What  manner  of  persons,  then,  ought  we  to  be,  in  all  bolj 
living  and  godliness,  looking  for  and  earnestly  desiring  the 
coming  of  the  day  of  God,  —  looking  for  the  new  heavens 
and  the  new  earth,  wherein  dwelleth  righteousness  ?  ^ 


NOTE  TO  PAGE  160. 

The  preceding  sermon,  like  others  in  the  present  volume,  will  be 
regarded  as  here  too  strict  and  there  not  strict  enough  in  adhering 
to  a  scientific  nomenclature.  The  writer  has  intended  to  diversify, 
his  terminology,  and  adopt  sometimes  the  more  philosophical  and 
sometimes  the  more  popular  forms  of  speech.  As  the  doctrine  of 
the  sermon  is  intimately  connected  with  other  doctrines,  —  for  ex- 
ample those  of  future  punishment  and  vicarious  atonement,  —  and 
as  the  views  of  the  writer  are  not  exactly  the  same  with  those  of 
other  writers  whose  main  principle  he  adopts,  he  has  endeavored 
in  the  present  Note,  and  at  the  risk  of  much  repetition,  to  explain 
his  views  and  his  language  more  fully  than  he  felt  authorized  to 
explain  them  in  the  sermon. 

There  is  a  retributive  sentiment,  which  is  identified  by  some  with 
the  demand  of  conscience  that  right  and  wrong  acts  when  viewed 
merely  as  right  and  well-deserving,  or  as  wrong  and  ill-deserving, 
be  recompensed  according  to  their  desert.  The  choice  that  they  be 
thus  recompensed  on  the  ground  of  their  merit  or  demerit  alone  is 
in  harmony  with  this  retributive  sentiment.  It  is  a  choice  to  com- 
ply with  this  sentiment.  Both  the  choice  and  the  sentiment  may  be 
said  to  be  united  in  one  complex  act.  This  act  is  called  retributive 
or  distributive  justice.  We  speak  sometimes  of  legislative  justice, 
sometimes  of  general  justice  ;  but  when  we  speak  of  justice  without 
1  2  Pet.  iii.  11-13;   1  Cor.  i.  7-9 ;  Titus  ii.  1 1-13. 


ARE  COMPREHENDEO  IN  HIS  LOVE.  177 

any  clit,tin;^uishiug  epithet  we  mean  retributive  justice.  It  has  been 
maintained  by  some  that  if  we  suppose  the  moral  element  in  this 
form  of  justice  to  be  a  form  of  benevolence  we  must  also  suppose 
that  punishment  is  to  be  inflicted  not  at  all  on  account  of  its  being 
deserved,  but  altogether  on  account  of  its  being  useful.  It  is  re- 
ported that  an  English  judge,  when  pronouncing  sentence  upon  a 
man  convicted  of  theft,  said  to  him :  "  You  are  transported  not 
because  you  have  stolen  these  goods,  but  in  order  that  goods  may 
not  be  stolen."  So  it  is  thought  that  if  retributive  justice,  so  far 
as  it  is  a  moral  attribute,  be  resolved  into  benevolence,  all  sin  is  to 
be  punished  not  in  any  degree  because  it  is  sin,  but  entirely  because 
it  is  hurtful ;  not  in  any  degree  because  the  punishment  is  deserved, 
but  entirely  because  it  tends  to  prevent  the  future  recurrence  of  sin. 
The  following  remarks  may  show  that  this  utilitarian  interpretation 
of  the  theory  is  incorrect. 

Happiness  is  a  natural,  but  not  a  moral  good.  The  choice  in 
favor  of  the  general  happiness  on  the  ground  of  and  in  proportion 
to  its  worth  is  a  higher  good.  It  is  a  moral  one.  It  is  the  virtue 
of  simple  benevolence.  The  choice  in  favor  of  this  virtue  on  the 
ground  of  and  in  proportion  to  its  worth  is  a  choice  in  favor  of 
happiness,  and  also  in  favor  of  virtue  which  is  a  nobler  good  than 
mere  happiness.  This  choice  in  favor  of  virtue  and  in  opposition 
to  sin  is  termed  complacential  benevolence.  In  the  exercise  of  it  a 
moral  agent  loves,  i.e.  has  an  elective  preference  for  virtue,  not 
primarily  because  he  calculates  that  his  love  will  be  useful,  but  pri- 
marily because  he  has  an  intuition  that  virtue  has  a  normal  claim  to 
be  loved,  i.e.  to  be  electively  preferred.  His  complacential  love 
of  virtue  develops  itself  into,  or  is  complemented  by,  his  justice. 
This  justice  is  a  benevolent  choice  that  virtue  be  rewarded ;  and 
the  just  man  puts  forth  this  choice  not  because  he  calculates  that  the 
reward  will  be  useful,  but  because  he  perceives  intuitively  tliat  the 
reward  is  deserved.  His  choice  in  favor  of  virtue  is  a  consistent 
one,  and  becomes  a  choice  of  all  that  normally  belongs  to  virtue. 
Now  the  deserved  recompense  belongs  to  it,  and  thus  his  choice  in 
favor  of  the  virtue  becomes  a  benevolent  choice  in  favor  of  its 
deserved  recompense. 

The  moral  principle  involved  in  punishment  is  the  same  with  the 
moral  principle  involved  in  reward.  A  holy  man  hates,  i.e.  volun- 
tarily rejects,  sin,  not  originally  because  he  calculates  that  bis  hatred 


178  ALL  THE  MORAL   ATTRIB[JTFS   OF   GOD 

will  exert  a  beneficial  influence,  but  originally  because  he  has  an 
intuition  that  sin  deserves  to  be  hated,  i.e.  voluntarily  refused,  on 
the  ground  of  its  intrinsic  evil.  His  choice  in  favor  of  virtue  is  a 
choice  in  opposition  to  sin,  and  as  the  former  is  termed  complacen- 
tial  love,  so  the  latter  is  termed  displacential  hatred.  This  hatred 
of  sin  develops  itself  into,  or  is  complemented  by,  retributive  justice. 
In  the  exercise  of  this  justice,  and  under  a  government  of  mere  law, 
a  friend  of  the  law  chooses  that  sin  be  punished,  and  his  choice 
results  not  originally  from  his  calculation  that  the  punishmerjt  will 
exert  a  beneficial  influence,  but  originally  from  his  intuition  that 
the  punishment  is  deserved  and  ought  to  be  inflicted.  Before  he 
reflects  on  the  mischievous  tendencies  of  sin,  or  on  the  beneficent 
tendencies  of  its  punishment,  his  conscience  demands  the  punish- 
ment, and  his  elective  preference  is  united  with  that  demand.  In 
exercising  this  preference  he  limits  his  view  to  sin  as  ill-deser%'ing, 
and  to  the  punishment  as  strictly  deserved.  He  enters  into  no 
calculation  of  consequences. 

Thus  in  the  case  of  both  reward  and  punishment  the  hatred  of 
sin  overflows  into  justice  ;  the  moral  character  of  the  former  merges 
itself  into  the  latter  ;  the  two  forms  of  virtue  differ  in  the  con- 
stitutional sentiments  united  with  them,  but  not  in  the  benevolence 
which  is  the  essence  of  them.  The  choice  to  reward  virtue  on  the 
ground  of  its  merit  has  for  its  alternate  form  the  choice  to  punish 
sin  on  the  ground  of  its  demerit.  Each  is  good-will.  Each  is  re- 
solvable into  the  choice  of  good  and  the  refusal  of  evil.  Each  is 
called  retributive  justice. 

We  now  come  to  a  different  form  of  justice.  The  reward  of  the 
virtuous  is  deserved,  but  an  additional  reason  for  bestowing  it  is  its 
fitness  to  do  good.  The  punishment  of  the  wicked  is  deserved,  but 
an  additional  reason  for  inflicting  it  is  its  fitness  to  do  good.  The 
merit  of  the  virtue  is  not  the  mere  condition,  but  is  the  ground  of 
th^  usefulness  of  rewarding  it,  and  the  demerit  of  the  sin  is  not  the 
mere  condition,  but  is  the  ground  of  the  usefulness  of  punishing  it. 
The  choice  to  bestow  the  merited  reward  on  the  virtuous  for  the 
sake  of  the  benign  influences  flowing  from  the  reward,  and  to 
inflict  the  merited  punishment  on  sin  for  the  sake  of  the  benign 
influences  flowing  from  the  punishment  is  a  distinct  form  of  benevo- 
lence as  well  as  a  distinct  form  of  juslice. 

The  good-will  which  regards  the  good  effects  of  reward  and  pun- 


ARE  COMPREHENDED  IN  HIS  LOTE.  179 

ishment  is  comprehended  under  the  name  of  general  benevolence  or 
general  justice.  The  same  good-will  takes  different  names  accord- 
ing to  the  different  constitutional  emotions  with  which  it  is  united 
and  according  to  the  different  aspects  in  which  its  object  is  viewed. 
As  retributive  or  distributive  justice  is  a  name  of  the  good-will  which 
is  united  with  the  retributive  sentiment,  and  has  regard  to  virtue  as 
well-deserving  and  sin  as  ill-deserving,  so  general  justice  or  general 
benevolence  is  a  name  of  the  good-will  which  is  united  with  all  the 
sensibilities  harmonizing  in  the  best  scheme  of  government  and  is 
exercised  in  regard  to  virtue  and  sin  in  all  their  relations ;  virtue  as 
not  only  well-deserving,  but  also  beneficial  in  its  influence  ;  sin  as 
not  only  ill-deserving,  but  also  hurtful  in  its  influence  ;  the  ap- 
propriate rewards  and  punishments  as  not  only  merited,  but  also 
beneficial.  For  example :  Our  Redeemer  is  now  rewarded  for  his 
atoning  work.  His  merit  for  this  work  is  the  merit  of  condignity. 
Conscience,  or  the  retributive  sentiment,  demands  the  reward  viewed 
merely  as  merited.  The  divine  benevolence  uniting  with  this  de- 
mand confers  the  merited  reward.  This  divine  benevolence  in 
union  with  the  retributive  sentiment  is  retributive  justice.  But  the 
bestowal  of  the  reward  conduces  to  the  welfare  of  the  universe. 
The  divine  benevolence,  uniting  not  merely  with  one,  but  with  all 
of  the  normal  sensibilities,  confers  the  reward  on  the  ground  of  its 
being  merited  and  on  the  condition  of  its  promoting  the  general 
welfare.  This  form  of  benevolence  is  general  justice  or  general 
benevolence. 

As  it  is  benevolence  which  recompenses  the  righteous,  so  it  is 
benevolence  which  recompenses  the  wicked.  The  fallen  angels 
deserve  the  penalty  which  they  are  now  suffering.  The  demand 
of  conscience  or  of  the  retributive  sentiment  is  that  they  suffer 
what  they  deserve,  and  on  the  ground  of  their  deserving  it.  The 
divine  benevolence  unites  with  this  demand  and  inflicts  the  pun- 
ishment viewed  as  simply  merited.  This  benevolence,  forming 
with  the  retributive  sentiment  one  complex  act,  is  retributive  jus- 
tice. The  voluntary  act  in  favor  of  all  that  is  merited  by  virtue  has 
the  same  moral  nature  with  the  voluntary  act  in  favor  of  all  that 
is  merited  by  sin.  ]f  "  God  is  love,"  so  "  God  is  a  consuming  fire." 
But  the  punishment  of  the  fallen  angels  will  be  useful  in  preventing 
sin  and  securing  the  safety  of  the  tempted.  The  divine  benevolence 
uniting  not  simply  with  one,  but  also  with  all  of  the  constitutional 


180  THE  MORAL   ATTRIBUTES   OF  GOD. 

sensibilities  which  harmonize  in  the  best  scheme  of  government, 
inflicts  the  penalty  not  alone  on  the  ground  of  its  being  deserved, 
but  also  on  the  condition  of  its  being  useful.  Punishment  regarded 
merely  as  deserved  must  be  inflicted  in  the  exercise  of  retributive 
justice  ;  regarded  as  both  deserved  and  necessary  for  the  general 
good  it  must  and  will  be  inflicted  in  the  exercise  of  general  justice ; 
regarded  in  its  relation  to  the  atonement  it  will  be  remitted  to  him 
who  exercises  a  holy  trust  in  that  atonement.  Conscience  demands 
the  penalty  for  sin  in  one  aspect  of  the  penalty,  and  approves  the 
forgiveness  of  sin  in  one  aspect  of  the  forgiveness. 

The  comprehensive  truth  may  be  stated  thus :  Our  benevolent 
Father  does  net  administer  his  moral  government  under  the  influ- 
ence of  a  limited  attribute  alone  ;  not  under  the  influence  of  mercy 
or  grace  or  distributive  justice  without  any  regard  to  the  general 
welfare ;  not  under  the  influence  of  a  choice  of  the  general  welfare 
without  any  regard  to  the  demands  of  retributive  justice  or  the 
pleadings  of  mercy  or  grace  ;  but  he  administers  his  moral  govern- 
ment under  the  influence  of  a  general  attribute  looking  at  sin  and 
at  pardon  in  all  their  relations,  and  providing  for  the  greatest  and 
highest  welfare  of  the  universe.  Under  the  influence  of  this  general 
attribute  our  benevolent  Father  resists  the  plea  of  mercy  and  of 
grace  when  the  safety  of  the  universe  requires  him  to  resist  it ;  he 
yields  to  tlie  demand  of  distributive  justice  when  the  general  good 
requires  him  to  comply  with  it ;  his  distributive  justice  holds  the 
scales  and  his  general  justice  holds  the  isword  ;  the  former  urges  its 
claims  and  the  latter  complies  with  them  on  the  ground  of  their 
rectitude  and  on  the  condition  of  their  necessity  for  the  general 
welfare.  The  punishment  which  our  Father  inflicts  is  useful,  but 
its  usefulness  rests  on  the  ground  of  its  being  deserved ;  the  justice 
of  it  comes  first,  the  usefulness  comes  afterward ;  the  punishment 
cannot  be  useful  unless  it  be  just,  and  it  must  be  useful  if  it  is 
just  unless  an  atonement  intervene.  The  fact  that  punishment  is 
deserved  rests  on  the  ground  that  sin  is  intrinsically  evil ;  the  in- 
trinsic evil  of  sin  consists  in  the  fact  that  it  is  a  preference  for  the 
inferior  above  the  superior  good,  —  it  is  a  love  of  self  or  the  world 
rather  than  of  him  who  comprehends  in  his  own  being  the  welfare, 
not  of  the  world  only,  but  of  the  universe  also ;  it  is  opposition  to 
general  benevolence,  to  general  justice,  to  him  of  whom  our  text 
affirms  :  "  God  is  love." 


^III. 

1 

THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.^ 


HEBREWS    II.    10. 


TOR  IT  BECAME  HIM,  FOR  WHOM  ABE  ALL  THINGS,  AND  BT  WHOM  ABE  ALL  THINGS,  IH 
BRINGING  MANY  SONS  UNTO  GLORY,  TO  MAKE  THE  CAPTAIN  OP  THEIR  SALVATION 
PERFECT  THROUGH  SUFFERINGS. 

FOB  WHOM  ARE  ALL  THINGS,  AND  BY  WHOM  ARE  ALL  THINGS. 

Among  the  earliest  questions  proposed  by  the  child  are 
the  two :  Who  made  this  ?  and  Why  did  he  make  it  ? 
These  two  questions  are  asked  by  the  artisan  observing  a 
specimen  of  ingenious  mechanism  :  By  whom  was  it  con- 
trived ?  and  for  what  purpose  ?  The  great  queries  of  the 
philosopher  are  :  What  is  the  cause  of  certain  phenomena  ? 
and  what  is  their  design  ?  Moved  by  a  like  impulse  the 
theologian  devotes  himself  to  the  two  problems :  Who  created 
the  universe  ?  and  why  did  he  create  it  ?  Both  these  prob- 
lems are  solved  by  a  few  words  of  our  text :  '  By  whom  are 
all  things,  and  for  whom  are  all  things ' ;  and  by  a  few  words 
of  another  text :  "  Of  him  and  through  him  and  to  him  are 
all  things"  ;^  and  by  a  few  words  of  still  another  text :  "All 
things  were  created  by  him  and  for  him."  ^  We  need  not 
linger  on  the  fact  that  God  is  the  efficient  cause  of  all  things ; 
but  we  may  well  linger  on  the  fact  that  he  is  their  final 
cause.     It  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  if  they  were  made 

1  A  sermon  preached  in  1851,  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.  Christopher  Cush- 
injr  fD.D.],  in  North  Brookfield,  Mass.;  and  in  1853,  at  the  Ordination  of 
[Professor]  Hiram  Mead  [D.D.],  in  South  Hadley,  Mass. 

2  Rom.  xi.  36. 
8  Col.  i.  16. 


182  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WOEK  OF  CREATION. 

by  him,  they  were  also  made  for  him.^  And  when  we  say 
that  all  things  were  made  for  him,  we  may  well  refer  to  vari- 
ous designs  with  which  he  made  the  universe,  one  of  them 
distinct  from  the  other,  each  flowing  into  the  other,  and  that 
other  flowing  back  to  the  first,  and  all  winding  at  length  into 
one  general  and  ultimate  purpose.  In  the  meaning  of  these 
simple  words,  "for  him,"  lies  coiled  up  a  chain  of  designs, 
each  link  necessary  to  hold  up  the  others,  and  all  the  links 
joining  together  in  one  massive  series,  forming  a  single  com- 
prehensive plan. 

The  object  of  the  present  discourse  is,  to  state  the  different 
parts  of  the  general  purpose  for  which  God  created  the 
universe. 

I.  I  remark  in  the  first  place  that  God  created  the  universe 
for  the  sake  of  promoting  his  own  happiness.  He  made  all 
things  because  he  chose  to  make  them,  because  the  making 
of  them  would  gratify  this  choice.  Now  the  gratification  of 
the  choice  of  any  being  is  happiness.  Not  only  as  a  sentient, 
but  still  more  as  a  holy,  being  must  the  Deity  be  influenced 
by  a  desire  to  secure  his  own  bliss  ;  for  his  own  is  the  highest 
bliss  conceivable,  and  therefore  ought  to  be  the  most  highly 
regarded.  All  the  happiness  which  has  been,  is  now,  or  ever 
will  be  felt  by  all  creatures,  is  but  a  mote  in  the  air  when 
compared  with  the  felicity  of  an  infinite  mind.  His  pleasure 
is  as  real  as  that  of  the  most  ecstatic  angel ;  but  the  angel's 
happiness  is  like  a  rill ;  that  of  God  is  not  like  a  river,  nor  a 
sea,  nor  an  ocean,  but  it  is  like  space  itself,  filled  throughout 
its  illimitable  expansion  with  a  joy  as  intense  as  it  is  widely 
diffused.  The  blessedness  of  God  cannot  be  called  ecstasy, 
for  that  is  too  mild  and  tame  a  word.  It  can  only  be  inti- 
mated by  saying  that  the  peace  which  is  derived  from  him  by 

1  "  That  which  is  not  orifrinal  to  itself  cannot  be  final  to  itself.  But  to  whom 
it  belongs  to  be  the  first  cause,  to  the  same  it  belongs  to  bo  the  last  end  :  so  God 
should  be  to  us  by  our  own  act.  He  that  is  original  to  us  hy  himself  sihould  be 
final  to  us  by  our  choice."  —  Whichcote's  Aphorisms,  etc.,  19. 


THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  183 

his  feeble  creatures,  that  peace  which  is  but  a  single  beam  of 
his,  passeth  all  understanding. 

This  thought  reminds  us  that  the  Deity  made  all  things 
for  his  own  happiness,  because  this  happiness  is  the  source  of 
the  bliss  of  his  creatures.  Joy  is  communicated  from  one 
spirit  to  another.  The  mere  knowledge  of  a  being's  enjoy- 
ment quickens  the  sympathy  of  those  who  are  apprised  of 
it,  so  strangely  arc  sentient  creatures  knit  together.  In  our 
extreme  pain  we  are  sometimes  comforted  by  the  signs  of 
good  cheer  among  irrational  beings  even,  far  more  so  by  the 
gladsome  moods  of  children.  One  friend,  with  one  cheerful 
smile,  may  dissipate  a  long-continued  gloom.  The  father  of 
a  family,  by  the  joyous  glances  of  his  eye,  is  like  the  sun  in 
the  centre  of  an  illuminated  circle.  The  happiness,  then,  of 
the  great  Central  Spirit  of  the  universe,  —  what  a  joy  must 
it  diffuse  throughout  the  immense  company  of  those  who  are 
enlivened  by  it.  They  are  allured  to  its  shining  expressions, 
and  they  rejoice  to  bathe  in  its  cheering  influence.  We  can- 
not imagine  the  darkness  of  the  funeral  pall  which  would 
hang  over  the  skies,  if  he  who  inhabited  them  were  cheerless 
and  sad.  Now  God  is  the  light  of  heaven,  because  he  is  in- 
finitely blessed,  and  radiates  his  blessedness,  as  his  intel- 
ligence, through  the  entire  circle  of  the  sympathetic  beings 
who  are  attracted  by  and  to  him.  His  unlimited  peace  being 
the  fountain  which  overflows  into  the  hearts  of  his  children, 
— it  ought  to  be  an  ultimate  aim  of  his  works,  and  as  it  ought 
to  be,  so  it  is  ;  for  his  perfection  consists  in  his  regarding 
every  good  as  it  deserves  to  be  regarded. 

But  this  is  only  the  first  link  in  the  chain  of  purposes. 
In  what  manner  did  God  intend  to  secure  his  own  pleasure 
in  giving  existence  to  creatures  ? 

II.  This  leads  me  to  remark  in  the  second  place,  that  God 
created  the  universe  in  order  to  promote  his  happiness  in  the 
exercise  of  his  perfections  ;  —  he  made  all  things  for  the  ex- 
ercise of  his  perfections.     The  action  of  our  faculties  is  in 


184  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION. 

itself  agreeable.  There  is  a  delight  in  even  muscular,  still 
more  in  spiritual,  movement.  Tlie  pain  of  mental  restraint 
cannot  be  long  endured.  In  proportion  to  the  elastic  vigor 
of  the  powers  is  the  bliss  which  attends  their  exercise.  We 
presume,  then,  that  the  employment  of  God's  infinite  attri- 
butes in  creating  a  universe  was  an  infinite  pleasure.  The 
continual  putting  forth  of  the  divine  energies  in  upholding 
worlds  and  systems  is  now  one  part  of  his  immutable  blessed- 
ness. Hence  if  is  only  the  poverty  of  language  which  induces 
us  to  say  that  the  Deity  exerts  his  power, —  that  he  performs 
his  wonderful  works  by  an  effort  of  his  will.  We  associate 
pain  with  exertion  and  with  effort ;  and  therefore  a  more 
happy  phraseology  would  be,  that  God's  omnipotence  pleases 
itseK  witli  the  sustaining  and  the  rolling  onward  of  the  globes 
which  lie  once  spake  into  being  ;  that  he  not  only  taketh  up 
the  isles  as  a  very  little  thing,  but  findeth  an  infinite  delight 
in  superintending  the  vast  mechanism  of  the  heavens,  which 
are  but  the  work  of  his  fingers.  It  is  no  conjecture,  it  is  fact, 
—  inferred  to  ho.  such  from  the  very  nature  of  mind,  that 
he  who  hath  made  everything  beautiful  in  its  season  derives 
an  immeasurable  happiness  from  the  sustaining  of  a  world 
on  which  he  hath  drawn  lines  of  grace  and  delicacy,  and  the 
very  fields  of  which  he  hath  adorned  with  lilies  surpassing 
the  glory  of  Solomon.  He  must  receive  a  delight  from  the 
controlling  of  a  system  of  globes  which  would  be  more  beau- 
tiful than  all  pearls  and  flowers,  were  not  its  gracefulness 
lost  in  a  splendor  and  a  majesty  which  can  be  fully  enjoyed 
only  by  its  infinite  architect.  There  must  have  been,  and  be 
still,  an  overflowing  joy  in  the  mere  exercise  of  God's  moral 
attributes  toward  the  mute  fishes  which  he  hath  made  to 
swim  the  sea  so  blithely,  and  toward  the  sparrows  whose  rise 
and  fall  he  noticeth  with  a  sleepless  eye,  and  toward  man 
who  is  made  the  chief  over  this  pleasant  heritage.  The  lan- 
guage of  Jehovah  is,  "  I  am  the  Lord  which  exercise  loving- 
kindness,  judgment,  and  righteousness  in  the  earth  ;  for  in 


THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  185 

these  things  I  delight."  ^  Love  is  pleasure.  God  is  love,  and 
therein  blessed  forcvermore.  This  blessedness  can  be  attained 
in  the  mere  act  of  loving,  and  must,  therefore,  have  been  a 
motive  for  providing  objects  of  love.  The  Psalmist  says, 
"  Wliatsoever  the  Lord  pleased,  that  did  he  in  heaven,  and  in 
earth,  in  the  seas,  and  all  deep  places."  ^  A  Pagan  says, "  He 
docth  according  to  his  will  in  the  army  of  heaven."  ^  His 
will  is  a  holy  will,  and  a  holy  will  must  be,  in  its  nature,  a 
happy  one  ;  the  exercise  of  it  is  attended  with  complacency  ; 
in  an  infinite  being  with  infinite  complacency ;  this  infinite 
complacency  is  an  infinite  good ;  and  this  infinite  good 
deserves  to  be  an  ultimate  aim  of  God  in  creating  the  uni- 
verse. As  it  is  right  that  he  should  make  all  things  in  order 
that  ho  may  be  happy,  so  it  is  right  that  he  should  make  all 
things  in  order  that  he  may  be  happy  in  the  exercises  of  his 
benevolence,  for  these  exercises  are  blessedness  in  their  own 
nature. 

But  there  is  still  another  link  in  the  chain,  for  the  question 
occurs :  In  what  manner  did  God  intend  to  secure  his  own 
felicity  in  exercising  his  own  perfections  ? 

in.  This  leads  me  to  remark  in  the  third  place,  God  created 
the  universe  for  the  sake  of  his  own  pleasure  in  so  exercising 
his  perfections  as  to  promote  the  happiness  of  his  creatures ; — 
he  made  all  things  for  the  happiness  of  his  creatures.  He 
has  made  myriads  of  sensitive  beings  who  live  but  a  day  and 
expire.  Tliey  are  capable  of  happiness.  They  are  contrived 
for  happiness.  We  believe  these  contrivances  are  not  in 
vain.  These  ephemera  spend  their  day  in  bliss  and  die. 
"Why  were  they  made  ?  We  know  not  all  the  causes ;  but  the 
fact  teaches  us  one  —  they  are  happy ;  therefore  they  were 
made  to  be  happy.  Their  happiness  gives  pleasure  to  their 
maker  ;  for  "  God,"  saith  the  Psalmist,  "  hath  done  whatso- 
ever he  pleased."  We,  even,  are  delighted  with  the  thought 
that  our  earth  and  atmosphere  teem  with  life  that  is  con- 

1  Jer.  ix.  24.  -  I's.  cxxxv.  6  «  Dan.  iv.  3i). 


186  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CEEATION. 

scious  and  consciously  blissful.  But  God  is  as  much  more 
pleased  than  ourselves  with  this  diffusion  of  bliss  as  infinite 
is  more  than  finite,  and  perfect  love  a  higher  good  than  par- 
tial selfishness.  God's  infinity,  instead  of  elevating  him 
above  a  regard  for  the  smallest  animalcule,  qualifies  and 
predisposes  him  for  even  a  perfect  interest  in  it.  All  that 
he  feels  is  immeasurable.  His  sensitiveness  to  the  good  of 
the  most  insignificant  creature  is  unlimited  as  his  own 
essence.  Infinite  is  his  sympathy  with  the  young  ravens 
when  they  cry ;  and  if  he  provides  for  the  welfare  of  the 
small  bird,  how  much  more  for  that  of  man,  even  although 
on  this  theme  man  hath  so  little  faith.  It  is  impossible  for 
us  to  measure  the  depth  of  his  love  toward  ourselves.  He 
makes  known  to  us  his  own  felicity  that  we  may  enjoy  it  with 
him.  He  has  lavished  upon  us  contrivances  for  our  good, 
that  we  may  be  gladdened  in  them.  The  blissful  result  of 
these  contrivances  must  gratify  the  benevolence  of  him  whose 
immeasurable  skill  they  develop.  If  the  pleasure  of  a  fellow- 
man  is  communicated  to  us  in  our  coldness  by  the  magnetic 
force  of  sympathy,  if  the  glad  eye  of  a  neighbor  brightens 
our  faces  with  joy,  —  how  much  more  delight  must  our  in- 
dulgent Father  experience  in  the  happiness  of  his  children, 
when  he  hath  foreordained  it  in  his  love,  gazed  at  it  as  his 
own  plan  through  eternal  ages,  with  inconceivable  ingenuity 
hath  devised  all  the  avenues  through  which  it  may  be  con- 
ducted to  its  recipient,  and  then  with  his  own  hand  hath  gently 
insinuated  it  into  the  heart  of  him  who  now  enjoys  it  indeed, 
but  enjoys  even  his  own  bliss  less  than  it  is  delighted  in  by 
his  Maker.  And  if  our  benignant  Father  is  thus  pleased  with 
the  felicity  of  his  creatures,  then  he  designed  to  be  pleased 
with  it ;  and  if  he  once  designed  this,  then  at  the  beginning ; 
and  therefore  with  this  design  he  made  the  world.  As  it  is 
right  that  he  should  intend  to  make  himself  happy,  and  to 
make  himself  happy  in  exercising  his  power  and  his  benevo- 
lence, 80  i';  is  right  that  he  should  intend  to  exercise  his 
attributes  in  order  to  make  his  creatures  happy.     As  this  is 


THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  187 

right,  so  it  is  desirable,  and  what  is  right  and  dcsiraljle  he 
does. 

We  have  seen  that  the  first  part  of  this  connected  series  of 
purposes  is  linked  to  the  second,  and  the  second  is  involved 
with  the  third,  we  maj  now  see  that  the  third  joins  upon  and 
strikes  into  another ;  for  we  ask  :  How  did  God  intend  to 
employ  his  attributes  in  making  sentient  beings  hnppy  ? 
There  is  more  than  one  method  in  wliich  he  thus  employs 
them,  and  a  conspicuous  one  is  the  following. 

IV.  I  remark  in  the  fourth  place,  God  created  the  universe 
for  the  sake  of  deriving  bliss  from  the  exercise  of  his  perfec- 
tions, in  making  his  rational  creatures  happy  in  holiness ; — he 
made  all  things  for  the  holiness  of  his  creatures.  He  dif- 
fuses comfort  through  the  entire  creation,  partly  for  the  pur- 
pose of  securing  the  good  which  lies  in  the  comfort  even  of 
an  animal,  and  partly  for  the  purpose  of  alluring  men  to  a 
similar  diffusion  of  the  happiness  which  they  are  able  to 
communicate  ;  and  their  voluntary  godlike  diffusing  of  hai> 
pincss  is  expressed  benevolence,  and  impartial  benevolence 
is  holiness.  He  pours  out  upon  our  race  the  most  precious 
materials  for  enjoyment  in  order  to  elicit  our  gratitude  for 
this  generosity,  and  to  make  this  thankfulness  not  selfish,  but 
virtuous,  in  imitation  of  the  generosity.  He  has  implanted 
within  us  a  conviction  that  moral  excellence  is  the  highest 
good,  that  all  our  efforts  should  tend  to  the  encouragement 
of  right  feeling  ;  and  from  this  deep-seated  conviction  we  in- 
fer that  our  piety  is  a  great  aim  of  his  providence  over  us.^ 
If  our  very  constitution  and  outward  relations  indicate  that 

1  "  The  inferiority  of  these  pleasures  [of  sense]  to  something  beyond  and  above 
them  is  never  doubted ;  a  wise  man  advises  a  proper  abstinence  from  such  plea- 
sures for  the  sake  of  hpalth ;  a  good  man  for  the  sake  of  virfup;  either  of  which 
is  justly  regarded  as  an  object  superior  to  that  which  it  ought  to  regulate.  But 
the  true  end  of  existence  must  be  something  final,  something  beyond  which 
nothing  can  be  proposed  as  of  superior  magnitude ;  and  unless  there  be  alleged 
some  worthier  object  of  our  creation  than  one  which  is  thus  referred  to  another 
which  has  a  right  to  supersede  it,  it  cannot  be  disproved  that  '  men  are  made  in 
vain.'"  —  Robert  Hall,  Works  (Am.  ed.).  Vol.  iii.  p.  382. 


188  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION. 

our  holiness  is  a  higher  good  than  our  happiness,  he  designed 
that  they  should  indicate  it ;  and  if  he  designed  to  teach  it, 
it  is  the  truth,  and  as  himself  proclaims  this  truth,  he  will 
conform  his  government  to  it ;  and  hence  we  infer  that  he 
made  the  world  for  the  purpose  of  making  all  things  work 
together  for  the  sjnritual  good  of  them  that  love  him.  If  he 
created  the  universe  for  the  happiness  of  his  creatures,  then 
certainly  for  the  happiness  of  moral  beings,  and  then,  of 
course,  for  their  highest  happiness  ;  but  their  highest  hap- 
piness consists  in  holiness,  and  therefore  it  must  have  been 
their  holy  bliss  which  moved  him  to  encircle  them  with  such 
exuberant  provisions  for  good.  Their  joy  in  the  Lord  was 
designed  to  be  their  strength.  While  we  read  that  "  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  shall  endure  forever ;  the  Lord  shall  rejoice 
in  his  works,"  ^  we  also  read  with  an  emphasis  :  "  I  will  rejoice 
in  Jerusalem,  and  joy  in  my  people."  ^  "  The  Lord  thy  God 
in  the  midst  of  thee  is  mighty  ;  he  will  save,  he  will  rejoice 
over  thee  with  joy ;  he  will  rest  in  his  love,  he  will  joy  over 
thee  with  singing";' — "As  the  bridegroom  rejoiceth  over 
the  bride,  so  shall  thy  God  rejoice  over  thee."^ 

This  is  not  the  mere  poetry  of  an  Oriental  Jew,  for  the 
apostle  writing  to  the  converted  Gentiles  exclaims :  "  All 
things  are  for  your  sakes,  that  the  grace,  being  multiplied 
through  the  many,  may  cause  the  thanksgiving  to  abound 
unto  the  glory  of  God."  ^  "  Let  no  man  glory  in  men,  for  all 
things  are  yours  ;  whether  Paul  or  Apollos  or  Cephas,  or  the 
world,  or  life  or  death,  or  things  present  or  things  to  come  ; 
all  are  yours,  and  ye  are  Christ's,  and  Christ  is  God's."  ^ 
Such  thrilling  words  as  these  make  it  appear  prosaic  to  say 
that  it  is  right  for  God  to  do  all  things  for  the  sake  of  his 
own  enjoyment,  his  enjoyment  in  the  happiness  of  his  crea- 
tures, in  their  happiness  as  involved  in  their  holiness  ;  it  is 
more  than  right ;  it  is  right  and  grand  for  him  to  prize  virtue 
above  mere  pleasure,  and  to  gratify  himself  in  doing  all  things 

iPs.  civ.  31.  2  isjj.  Ixv.  19.  szeph.  iii.  17. 

♦  Isa.  Ixii.  5.  "  2  Cor.  iv.  15  (R.V.).  «  1  Cor.  iii.  21-23. 


THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  189 

for  the  sake  of  making  the  highest  pleasure  of  his  children 
consist  in  their  virtue. 

Even  here  the  mind  docs  not  stop  in  its  inquiries,  but 
asks  :  How  does  God  exercise  his  wisdom  in  causing  his 
creatures  to  place  their  chief  happiness  in  holiness  ? 

V.  This  leads  me  to  remark,  in  the  fifth  place,  God  created 
the  universe  for  the  purpose  of  pleasing  himself  with  such  an 
exercise  of  his  power  as  would  make  his  children  derive  both 
happiness  and  holiness  from  the  display  of  his  perfections ;  — 
he  created  the  universe  for  the  manifestation  of  his  attri- 
butes. If  he  designs,  as  we  have  seen  that  he  does,  to  promote 
his  own  felicity  in  the  creation,  he  must  exercise  his  attri- 
butes, and  the  exercise  is  the  manifestation  of  them ;  and  the 
manifestation  of  them  is  well  fitted  to  make  the  observer 
holy,  and  if  holy,  then  of  course  happy.  If  God  designs,  as 
we  have  seen  that  he  does,  to  promote  the  virtue  of  men,  he 
must  also  design  to  manifest  his  perfections ;  for  it  is  by 
considering  the  character  of  God  that  men  become  "  changed 
into  the  same  image,  from  glory  to  glory,  even  as  by  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord."  They  arc  elevated  above  themselves  by 
a  near  communion  with  the  attributes  of  him  who  assimilates 
to  his  own  excellence  those  who  love  to  contemplate  it.  If 
he  intends,  as  we  have  seen  that  he  does,  to  make  his  intel- 
ligent children  happy  in  holiness,  how  can  he  accomplish  this 
magnificent  purpose  otherwise  than  by  revealing  those  per- 
fections which  are  the  treasury  of  the  bliss  of  all  who  are 
truly  rational  ?  Even  the  pleasure  which  is  derived  from  a 
modest  flower  and  a  neat  lawn  is  exalted  and  refined  by  the 
reflection  that  they  are  the  handiwork  of  him  who  so  clothes 
the  grass  of  the  field.  Music  imparts  an  additional  and  a 
peculiar  delight  as  it  is  found  to  be  the  contrivance  of  One 
who  hath  made  the  capacity  for  sweet  sounds  because  he 
loveth  concord.  The  tall  mountains  and  the  waves  of  the 
sea  arc  transformed  from  simply  large  collections  of  matter 
into  eloquent  expressions  of  truth,  as  the  entranced  spectatoi 


100  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION. 

may  say,  "  My  Father  made  them  all."  And  if  the  view  of 
God's  omnipotence  and  omniscience  be  fitted  to  inspire  good 
men  with  a  delightful  feeling  of  security  and  triumph,  still 
more  must  be  the  view  of  his  benignity  and  condescension. 
The  world  would  be  only  a  barren  heath,  did  it  not  reveal 
the  excellences  of  him  who  governs  it.  Its  intellectual 
aspect  consists  in  its  expressing  so  much  of  lofty  sentiment 
that  it  has  been  sometimes  thought  to  be  the  cause  of  itself. 
Its  grandeur  lies  in  its  being  not  a  simple  mass  of  atoms 
rolled  up  into  fantastic  piles,  but  in  its  being  a  volume  in- 
scribed and  superscribed  with  legible  characters,  unfolding 
the  most  precious  truths,  relating  to  the  most  adorable  Spirit. 
Nature  communes  with  man.  It  seems  to  have  an  eye  which 
indicates  intelligence.  It  appears  to  smile.  It  has  a  voice, 
and  utters  an  eternal  anthem  of  praise.  The  skies  and  the 
fields  and  the  waves  of  the  sea  are  so  made  that  they  express 
the  feelings  of  their  Maker.  We  seldom  consider  how  much 
of  ecstasy  sometimes,  and  of  comfort  at  all  times,  is  im- 
parted secretly  by  this  communication  of  living  sentiment  to 
man  from  the  starlight  and  the  sunshine,  from  the  spring- 
time and  the  harvest,  the  voice  of  birds  and  the  repose  of  the 
cattle  on.  a  thousand  hills.  This  communication  is  not  the 
result  of  accident,  but  of  design.  With  this  design  did  God 
originally  write  the  book  of  nature,  and  is  now  providentially 
opening  its  successive  leaves.  Every  event  which  occurs  is 
a  written  page  describing  his  excellence. 

From  the  fact  that  a  man  would  be  selfish  in  striving  to 
exhibit  himself  in  his  works,  some  have  inferred  that  he  who 
is  infinitely  superior  to  man  cannot  properly  create  the  world 
with  the  design  of  exhibiting  his  own  excellence.  But  such 
an  exhibition  is  essential  to  the  universal  good.  The  sinful- 
ness of  our  race  has  corrupted  all  the  words  which  pertain  to 
moral  themes.  Thus  the  word  "  exhibit  "  is  associated  with 
vanity,  because  it  is  tliis  sordid  emotion  which  leads  a  man 
to  exhibit  himself.  Tlic  term  "  display"  ai)i)ears  almost  sac- 
rilegious in  its  application  to  Jehovah,  because  in  a  human 


THE  DESIGN  OP  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  191 

display  there  is  so  much  of  pride.  So  would  it  be  with  all 
words  which  can  be  imagined  to  designate  the  divine  attri- 
butes. Man  would  apply  them  to  himself  and  tarnish  them. 
If  we  should  say  that  Jehovah  intends  to  enucleate  his  char- 
acter, the  word  enucleate  would  not  often  pass  our  lips  with- 
out being  contaminated  by  our  breath.  In  a  corrupt  race  the 
purest  phrases  of  the  best  language  do  not  retain  their  sacred- 
ness.  If  the  exhibition  of  human  excellence  be  in  general 
an  unfit  design  for  a  work  of  man,  it  is  because  the  excellence 
is  so  often  a  counterfeit,  and  when  real  is  so  diminutive. 
The  same  princijile,  however,  which  causes  a  human  display 
to  be  one  of  vain  glory,  causes  a  divine  manifestation  to  be 
one  of  infinite  kindness  and  wisdom.  The  same  principle 
which  makes  it  wrong  in  man  to  love  himself  supremely, 
makes  it  right  in  God  to  view  his  own  character  with  infinite 
complacence.  From  the  very  fact  that  imperfection  should 
not  strive  to  make  itself  prominent,  it  is  the  wise  inference 
that  perfection  should  exhibit  its  own  beauty.  God  loves 
himself  with  a  supreme  affection,  not  as  man,  because  he  is 
himself,  but  because  he  is  infinitely  deserving  of  love.  And 
he  manifests  his  perfections,  not  because  they  are  his,  but 
because  they  are  perfections,  and  infinite,  and  deserve  to  be 
displayed,  and  their  exhibition  will  promote  the  holiness  of 
the  created  universe,  and  the  happiness,  not  of  the  created 
only,  but  of  the  uncreated  also.  Instead  of  its  being  wrong 
for  God  to  make  his  character  known,  we  cannot  conceive 
that  it  would  be  right  for  him  to  leave  it  eternally  unknown,  to 
allow  his  omnipotence  to  repose  unrecognized  in  empty  space, 
his  infinite  skill  to  lie  dormant  and  unnoticed  throughout  a 
duration  blank  to  all  created  good,  his  unl)ounded  love  to  call 
forth  no  cheerful  recognition,  no  answering  gratitude,  no 
true  nobleness  of  desire  to  imitate  and  thus  extend  it. 

But  we  have  not  yet  reached  the  last  link  in  the  chain ;  for 
the  question  still  occurs.  How  did  God  intend  to  display  his 
perfections  so  as  to  make  moral  agents  lioly  and  happy,  and 
thus  to  please  himself  ?  In  various  ways  :  Init  most  prom- 
inently in  that  which  will  be  noticed  in  the  next  proposition. 


192  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION. 

VI.  I  remark,  then,  in  the  sixth  place,  that  God  created 
the  universe  for  the  sake  of  deriving  pleasure  from  exercising 
his  power  in  promoting  the  happiness,  and  yet  more  the  holi- 
ness, of  his  children  by  engaging,  and  of  course  exhibiting, 
his  perfections  in  the  redemptive  work  of  Christ; — he  made 
all  things  for  the  distinctive  work  of  the  Redeemer. 

Many  persons  who  are  slow  to  admit  that  God  made  all 
things  for  himself,  are  quick  to  own  that  he  made  all  things 
for  his  Son.  Some  men,  however,  are  startled  by  the  bold- 
ness of  this  statement,  and  prefer  to  say  that  God  made  all 
things  in  their  present  form  ior  the  redemptive  work.  Others 
may  prefer  to  say  that  he  made  all  things  for  this  work  so  far 
as  all  thinfi^s  are  related  to  our  world  and  our  race.  If  he 
made  all  things,  in  their  present  form  and  in  their  present 
relations,  for  this  wonderful  work,  then  certainly,  in  one 
aspect,  he  made  all  things  for  it.  If  he  made  them  in  order 
that  he  himself  may  be  pleased,  then  we  should  presume  that 
he  made  them  for  his  well-beloved  Son,  whom  he  raised  from 
the  cross  to  a  throne,  "  far  above  all  rule  and  authority  and 
power  and  dominion  and  every  name  that  is  named."  ^  If  lie 
made  them  in  order  that  his  sentient  creatures  may  be  happy, 
then  we  should  presume  that  he  made  them  for  the  great  High 
Priest  whose  name  is  the  only  one  whereby  men  can  become 
happy  in  the  highest  meaning  of  that  term.  If  he  made  all 
things  for  the  holiness  of  his  children,  then  we  should  presume 
that  he  made  them  for  him  who  only  "  is  made  unto  us  wisdom 
and  righteousness  and  sanctification  and  redemption."  -  If 
we  are  to  be  regenerated,  it  is  by  Christ's  Spirit ;  if  confirmed 
in  virtue,  it  is  through  his  death  ;  if  glorified,  it  is  through 
his  resurrection.  The  purpose,  then,  of  our  good  is  a  purpose 
of  the  atonement,  which  is  the  sole  condition  of  any  favor 
temporal  or  spiritual.  If  God  created  the  universe  for  the 
manifestation  of  his  attributes,  then  for  Christ ;  for  he  is  the 
brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,  and  in  him  dwclleih  all 
the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily.     The  wisdom  which  has 

lEph.  i.  21.  M  Cor.  i.  30. 


THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  UlS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  193 

created  the  world  is  less  attractive  than  that  wliich  has 
devised  the  scheme  of  redemption.  The  justice  displayed 
in  tlie  punishment  of  sin  is  less  adorable  than  that  displayed 
in  the  giving  up  of  the  only  begotten  Son.  The  benevolence 
displayed  in  all  the  happiness  of  all  the  sentient  behigs,  who 
live  to  enjoy  what  they  enjoy  to  live,  is  less  illustrious  than 
that  benevolence  which  rises  into  the  sphere  of  grace,  and 
opens  full  upon  our  view  only  in  the  Lamb  of  God  who  taketh 
away  the  sin  of  the  world.  We  are  led  to  believe  that  the 
end  of  the  creation  is  the  atonement  of  Christ,  because  we 
are  inclined  to  think  that  this  is  the  greatest  good  in  the  uni- 
verse ;  and  the  largest  blessing  must  have  been  the  one 
wliich  Infinite  Wisdom  designed  to  secure.  It  is  the  greatest 
good  in  the  universe  for  what  it  does, —  as  it  renews,  sanctifies, 
perfects,  justifies,  and  glorifies  the  soul ;  securing  its  conso- 
lation as  long  as  the  body  lives,  and  its  bliss  as  long  as  God 
himself  shall  endure.  It  is  the  greatest  good  in  the  universe, 
because  of  what  it  involves  ;  for  it  includes  the  body  and  soul 
of  man — for  Jesus  was  a  man  —  in  their  perfect  state,  a 
spotless  example  for  our  entire  race  ;  it  includes  a  mysterious 
union  of  this  body  and  soul  with  the  Godhead, — for  Jesus 
was  God.  It  thus  includes  Jehovah  himself ;  not  his  mere 
omnipotence,  but  something  more  ;  not  his  mere  omniscience, 
but  more  ;  not  his  mere  benevolence,  but  more ;  not  his  grace 
alone,  which  is  his  crowning  attribute,  but  more  still.  It  in- 
cludes all  these  perfections  in  their  exercise ;  in  their  exer- 
cise toward  enemies ;  in  their  exercise  for  the  temporal  good 
of  foes ;  and  not  only  temporal,  but  spiritual ;  and  not  only 
spiritual,  but  eternal ;  and  not  only  eternal,  but  eternally 
diversifying  and  augmenting  its  manifestations.  If  man  be 
the  lord  of  this  earth,  the  atonement  embraces  this  lordship 
in  itself;  for  it  embraces  the  man  Jesus.  If  God  be  the 
highest  good,  the  atonement  comprehends  this  good  ;  for  it 
comprehends  Jesus,  who  was  God.  If  Jehovah  in  the  mopt 
illustrious  exercise  of  his  perfections  is  the  most  exalted 
theme  of  contemolation,  the  atonement  is  that  theme;  for  it 


194  THE  DESIGN  OP  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION. 

is  all  the  grace  of  Heaven  incarnated  in  the   only  perfect 
one  of  earth. 

In  unison  with  these  thoughts  we  find  that  the  word  of 
God  associates,  directly  and  indirectly,  the  design  of  tlie 
creation  with  those  redemptive  acts,  "  which  things  the 
angels  desire  to  look  into."  The  Father  "  sent  his  Son  to 
l)e  the  propitiation  for  our  sins,"  and  "  that  we  might  live 
through  him";  and  because  the  Son  "humbled  himself, 
becoming  obedient  even  unto  death,  yea,  the  death  of  the 
cross,"  therefore  the  Father  "  highly  exalted  him,  and  gave 
unto  him  the  name  which  is  above  every  name."  ^  Thus  it 
was  the  striking  peculiarity  of  the  Redeemer's  life  that  he  war, 
born  in  order  that  he  might  die,  and  that  in  consequence  of  h's 
death  he  might  reign.  "  The  hour  is  come,"  he  said,  "  that 
the  Son  should  be  glorified.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you, 
Except  a  grain  of  wheat  fall  into  the  earth  and  die,  it  abideth 
by  itself  alone,  but  if  it  die,  it  beareth  much  fruit."  "  Now 
is  my  soul  troubled,  and  what  shall  I  say  ?  Father,  save  mc 
from  this  hour.  But  for  this  cause  came  I  unto  this  hour. 
Father,  glorify  thy  name."-  Tlie  hour  of  his  death  —  this 
it  was  which  gave  the  meaning  to  his  entire  life.  Accordingly 
we  read :  "  It  became  him  for  whom  are  all  things,  and  l)v 
whom  are  all  things,  through  sufferings  to  bestow  the  highest 
honor  upon  the  Captain  of  their  salvation,  who  is  leading 
many  sons  to  glory."  ^  The  same  paragraph  which  affirmf-- 
that  Christ  is  "  the  first-born  of  all  creation,"  and  "  the  first- 
born from  the  dead,"  affirms  also  that  in  him  "  we  have  our 

redemption ; in  him  were  all  things   created ; 

all   things  have  been  created  through  him  and  unto  him, 

that  in  all  things  he  might  have  the  pre-eminence."* 

These  words  harmonize  with  the  numerous  declarations  and 
implications  of  the  Bible  that  after  the  death  of  the  Mediator 

1  Phil.  ii.  5-11.     See  also  1  John  iv.  9, 10;  Horn.  xiv.  9  ;  Eph.  i.  15-23  ;  Heb. 
ii.  9  ;  xii.  2. 

2  John  xii.  23,  24,  27.     See  also  John  xiii.  31,  32  ;  xvii   1-13. 
^  Stuart's  Translat'on  of  Hebrews,  ii.  10. 

»  Col.  i.  14-20. 


THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  196 

all  authority  was  given  to  him  iu  heaven  and  on  earth,  angels 
and  autlioritics  and  powers  were  made  subject  unto  him,  and 
all  things  were  put  under  his  feet,  and  he  became  head  over 
all  things  to  the  church.^ 

VII.  Each  of  the  foregoing  propositions  prepares  the  way 
for  and  justifies  that  which  follows  it,  and  as  each  flows  into 
another,  so  all  merge  themselves  at  length  into  the  seventh, 
the  comprehensive  and  last  proposition :  God  created  the 
universe  for  the  sake  of  pleasing  himself  with  such  exercises 
of  his  attrilaites  as  secure  the  general  holiness  and  happiness 
resulting  from  the  display  of  his  perfections,  especially  in 
the  atonement,  which  is  one  part  of  his  great  plan  to  pro- 
mote his  own  glory ;  —  he  created  the  universe  for  the  sake 
of  his  own  glory. 

If  he  created  it  for  his  happiness,  then  for  his  glory ; 
because  this  happiness  adds  an  effulgence  to  his  nature.  If 
he  created  it  for  his  happiness  in  the  exercise  of  his  attri- 
butes, then  for  his  glory ;  because  the  very  essence  of  these 
attributes  is  an  honor  to  him,  and  the  activity  of  them  is  a 
still  brighter  jewel  in  his  crown.  If  he  created  the  universe 
for  the  exercise  of  his  perfections  in  promoting  the  happiness 
of  creatures,  then  for  his  glory;  because  for  such  a  being 
to  employ  such  stupendous  powers  in  diffusing  cheerfulness 
among  his  offspring  adds  a  new  lustre  to  his  name.  If  he 
created  the  universe  for  the  pleasure  of  employing  his  attri- 
butes so  as  to  make  us  happy  in  holiness,  then  for  his  own 
glory ;  because  our  virtue  is  but  the  effluence  of  his  bright- 
ness, as  the  moon's  light  is  but  a  reflection  from  the  sun. 
Our  holineae  presupposes  our  knowledge,  and  our  knowledge 
is  but  a  co])y  of  the  divine  ;  all  our  science  being  a  miniature 
likeness  of  God's  omniscience.  And  as  we  glorify  him  by 
knowing  him,  still  more  by  loving  him ;  for  our  holy  love  is 
luit  an  image  of  his  own  love.  He  is  its  author,  he  is  its 
ol)ject,  he  its  end,  he  iti-;  luminous  exemplar ;  and  therefore, 

>  Eph.  i.  22,  23;  1  Pet.  iii.  22. 


196  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION. 

fashioned  after  him,  coming  from  him,  and  going  to  him,  it 
glorifies  him  as  the  First  and  the  Last.  Our  liohness  con- 
sists in  praising  God ;  and  he  delights  in  our  praises,  not 
merely  because  they  are  praises  of  him,  but  mainly  because 
they  are  virtue.  Our  holiness  consists  in  honoring  him  ; 
and  he  chooses  to  be  honored,  not  so  much  for  the  honor,  as 
for  the  fitness  and  lightness  of  the  honor.  If  we  truly  praise 
him,  we  praise  infinite  benevolence.  If  we  truly  honor  infinite 
benevolence,  we  honor  him.  He  is  infinite  benevolence  in 
its  personal  form.  God  created  all  things  that  he  may  make 
all  men  see  what  is  the  breadth  and  length  and  depth  and 
height  of  his  power  and  love  ;  and  this  illustration  of  his 
excellences,  especially  as  they  shine  out  in  Jesus  our  Re- 
deemer, the  bright  and  morning  star,  is  his  declarative  glory, 
as  the  excellences  themselves  are  his  essential  glory,  and  as 
the  virtue  whicli  they  call  forth  from  ulfe  is  his  derived  glory, 
—  a  glory  which  is  the  circumference  of  the  circle  of  which 
he  is  the  centre,  —  all  the  rays  of  which  diverge  from  him  as 
their  source,  are  reflected  back  to  him  as  their  object,  shine 
with  a  lustre  which  is  but  a  faint  likeness  of  his  own,  and 
are  made  to  shine  for  the  sake  of  illuminating  the  name  of 
him,  which  is  the  name  above  every  name,  and  is  engraven  on 
all  the  works  of  his  hands. 

The  honor  of  God  is  enhanced  in  our  esteem  by  the  very 
objections  whicli  are  made  against  it.  Men  say  that  it  is 
unworthy  of  him  to  take  a  pleasure  in  glorifying  himself, 
in  parading  the  insignia  of  his  power,  sitting  on  his  throne 
gazing  at  the  spectacle  of  his  reflected  brightness.  But  wha,t 
is  this  display  of  his  perfections  ?  It  does  not  consist  in  the 
.baubles  of  earthly  kings,  but  is  intimated  in  the  whole 
volume  of  science.  All  the  discoveries  which  are  recorded 
in  this  volume  are  discoveries  of  the  thoughts  of  God,  and  all 
these  thoughts  are  signs  of  his  perfect  character.  The 
sentences  or  the  paragraphs  composing  this  volume  are  noth- 
ing less  tlian  the  broad  sea,  with  its  expressive  laws, —  the 


THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OP  CREATION.  197 

mountains,  rock-ribbed  that  they  may  be  emblems  of  strength, 

—  this  globe  itself,  and  all  that  retinue  of  stars  whose  light 
swift-travelling  for  six  thousand  years  has  not  yet  arrived  at 
our  planet, —  the  mind  of  Aristotle,  of  Leibnitz,  of  Milton, 

—  the  heart  of  David,  of  Paul,  of  John,  of  Fenelon,  of 
Melanchthon,  Luther,  Calvin, —  the  myriads  of  spirits  that 
throng  the  upper  sanctuary, —  all  the  happiness  and  all  the 
holiness  in  all  worlds.  Every  work  of  God  shines  as  a  proof 
of  his  wisdom,  and  therefore  as  a  gem  in  his  crown.  For 
him  to  display  his  attributes  is  to  exercise  them  in  doing 
good  and  in  doing  right.  For  him  to  be  pleased  with  the  dis- 
play of  them  is  to  be  pleased  with  his  constancy  in  doing 
good  and  in  doing  right.  For  him  to  make  a  world  for  the 
display  of  them  is  to  make  a  world  for  the  sake  of  doing 
good  and  doing  right ;  for  the  sake  of  illustrating  the  truth 
that  the  highest  bliss  results  from  virtue,  the  brightest  glory 
from  self-denial,  the  richest  crown  from  the  cross.  He  can- 
not manifest  his  whole  character  without  presenting  the 
most  persuasive  motives  to  holiness,  and  he  cannot  present 
the  most  persuasive  motives  to  holiness  without  manifesting 
his  whole  character.  He  cannot  make  the  universe  as  happy 
as  it  is  possible  for  him  to  make  it  unless  he  exhibit  all  his 
perfections,  and  he  cannot  exhibit  all  his  perfections  with- 
out making  the  universe  as  happy  as  it  is  possible  for  him  to 
make  it.  Herein  is  his  glory,  that  he  includes  all  pure  spirits 
within  himself  and  condescends  to  make  his  own  joy  in- 
separable from  their  well-being  ;  so  that  whatever  he  does  for 
'  his  own  name '  he  does  for  all  virtuous  minds,  and  whatever  he 
does  for  all  virtuous  minds  he  does  for '  his  own  name's  sake ' ; 
in  creating  all  things  for  his  own  honor  he  created  them  for 
the  truest  nobility  of  his  children,  and  in  making  the  display 
of  himself  he  adorns  them,  or  will  adorn  them,  with  all  the 
graces  which  they  do  or  ever  will  possess.  "We  may  avoid 
all  evil  associations  with  the  words  display,  ^lorij,  praise,  if 
we  will  remember  that  God  is  the  impersonation  of  all  virtue, 
his  display  of  himself  is  only  the  manifestation  of  all  virtue, 


198  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OP  CEEATION. 

his  glory  is  his  exercise  and  consequent  exhibition  of  all 
virtue,  his  praise  is  the  praise  of  all  that  is  amia))le  and 
majestic  in  all  virtue,  and  accordingly  there  is  a  true  disin- 
terestedness in  his  repeated  proclamation  :  "  This  people  have 

I  formed  for  myself ;  they  shall  show  forth  my  praise 

Even  every  one  that  is  called  by  my  name,  for  I  have  created 
him  for  my  glory."  ^  He  and  he  only  is  impartial  and  dis- 
interested who  prefers  moral  excellence  above  every  other 
good,  and  prefers  the  higher  above  the  lower  degree  of  this 
excellence,  whether  it  be  found  in  himself  or  in  any  other 
being.  His  impartiality  and  disinterestedness  prevent  him 
from  sacrificing  the  larger  to  the  smaller  amount,  the  higher 
to  the  lower  kind  of  good,  wherever  they  are  found.  Accord,- 
ingly,  when  tlie  ungrateful  children  of  the  Lord  had  given  to 
the  heathen  a  false  view  of  his  character,  and  had  thus 
encouraged  the  heathen  to  sin,  he  interposed  for  their  rescue, 
and  gave  the  true  view  of  his  character  so  that  he  might 
encourage  men  to  be  holy.  In  explaining  the  reason  for  this 
interposition  he  says :  "  I  do  not  this  for  your  sakes,  0  house 
of  Israel  [as  if  ye  had  been  faithful] ,  but  for  mine  holy  name's 
sake  which  ye  have  profaned  among  the  heathen."  ^  For 
him  to  prevent  wrong  views  and  to  present  right  views  of  his 
character  is  to  promote  the  moral  excellence  of  his  creatures ; 
it  is  his  benevolence,  the  honor,  the  glory,  of  his  name. 

Men  object  again :  If  God  created  the  universe  in  order  that 
the  universe  may  honor  him,  he  is  dependent  upon  it,  and 
this  dependence  lessens  his  glory.  If  it  be  exactly  true  that 
he  is  thus  dependent,  the  objection  might  reveal  the  tender- 
ness of  his  love.  Would  it  dishonor  a  king  if  he  could  not 
be  happy  save  in  diffusing  happiness  among  his  subjects  ? 

1  Isa.  xliii.  21,  7. 

2  Ezek.  xxxvi.  22.  Perhaps  the  Bihle  represents  the  Lord  as  i)erformin>r  his 
works  for  his  "name"  more  frequently  than  for  liis  "glory,"  altlioujjh  each  of 
these  words  expresses  the  same  idea.  See  Isa.  Ixiii.  12;  Jer.  xiii.  II  ;  Ezek. 
xxxix.  25,  etc.  The  word  "praise"  is  also  often  used  as  nearly  synonymoaa 
with  "fjlory"  and  "  name."     Sec  Isa  xlviii,  9;  Jer.  xxxiii.  9,  etc. 


THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  199 

Would  it  disgrace  a  father  if  lie  depended  for  his  own  bhss 
upon  his  kindness  in  making  his  household  blissful  ?  Can 
it  nourish  the  pride  of  a  mendicant  to  know  that  his  bene- 
factor is  made  happj  by  relieving  the  beggar's  wants,  and  is 
dependent  on  his  charities  for  his  peace  ? 

But  God  is  not  dependent  upon  his  creatures  as  individu- 
als ;  he  can  annihilate  them  all,  and  create  others  their 
equals,  and  be  the  same  in  his  blessedness.  If  he  be  depen- 
dent on  his  creatures  in  any  sense  he  depends  on  them  not 
as  actual  existences,  but  merely  as  conditions  essential  in 
the  nature  of  things  to  the  exercise  of  his  attributes.  He 
depends  not  on  them,  but  on  his  benevolence  in  making 
them  happy ; —  not  on  them,  but  on  his  communicative  grace 
which  delights  in  its  own  communication  to  them.  Could  he 
have  been  dependent  upon  them  before  they  had  so  much  as 
a  being,  and  not  rather  upon  his  own  goodness  in  originally 
prompting  him  to  give  them  being  ?  And  after  they  were 
created  by  him  can  he  be  dependent  upon  them  whom  he  is 
constantly  holding  up  from  annihilation,  and  not  rather  upon 
his  own  love,  which  delighteth  to  preserve  the  happiness  of 
his  creatures  ?  It  is  in  the  nature  of  things,  the  nature  of 
mind,  the  nature  of  virtue,  that  "  every  benevolent  being 
places  his  happiness  in  the  happiness  of  others  as  well  as  in 
his  own  happiness."^  The  benevolence  of  God  is  itself  bless- 
edness, and  delights  in  communicating  blessedness  to  all 
who  will  accept  it.  Does  this  lessen  its  glory  ?  Is  the 
value  of  an  aroma  diminished  because  it  naturally  diffuses 
its  fragrance  ?  Would  the  flower  be  more  lovely  if  it  did 
not  exhale  its  perfume  ?  Does  the  beauty  of  a  tree  vanish 
because  it  spreads  abroad  its  branches  ?  Does  a  fountain 
lose  its  freshness  because  its  waters  do  not  stagnate  in  itself  ? 
Would  the  sun  be  more  glorious  if  its  rays  were  all  confined 

1  This  is  probably  the  mcaninj,^  of  Dr.  B.  Hale,  who  says :  "Live  a  holy  and 
devout  life,  and  tluni  slialt  po  from  jrracc  to  plory  ;  jrrace  is  aurora gloriae ;  jrlory, 
nothinc:  but  a  bright  constellation  of  graces;  and  happiness,  nothinsr  but  tho 
quintessence  of  holiness."  —  "  The  Whole  Works  of  Jeremy  Taylor."  Vol.  iii. 
p  412  (Bishop  Heber's  Edition). 


200  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  VVOUK  OF  CREATION. 

to  its  surface  by  bands  of  iron  V—  or  is  it  the  diffusing  of  its 
radiance  that  constitutes  its  glory,  as  it  is  the  emanation  of 
God's  fuhiess  which  makes  him  not  selfish,  but  love  itself, 
that  depends  upon  its  own  activity  for  its  very  gratification  ? 
In  one  sense,  our  souls  emanate  from  him,  our  knowledge  is 
his,  our  virtue  his,  our  happiness  his;  because  he  is  their 
source,  their  object,  their  end.  In  being  gratified,  then,  by 
us,  he  is  gratified  by  himself,  for  we  are  in  him  ;  our  good- 
ness shines  by  the  rays  of  his  light  "  as  the  brightness  of  a 
jewel  held  in  the  sun's  beams  is  a  participation  or  derivation 
of  the  sun's  brightness."  ^ 

But  it  has  been  objected  again,  in  the  words  of  Eliphaz : 
"  Can  a  man  profit  God  ?  —  Is  it  an  advantage  to  the  Almighty 
that  thou  art  righteous,  or  a  gain  to  him  that  thou  walkest 
uprightly  ? "  ^  There  is  certainly  an  important  truth  in  the 
hymn  of  an  old  English  poet : 

"  Ineffable,  all  powerful  God,  all  free 
Thou  only  liv'st,  and  each  thing  lives  by  thee ; 
No  joy,  no,  nor  perfection  to  thee  came 
By  the  contriving  of  this  world's  great  frame." 

The  sun  does  not  receive  anything,  says  Edwards,  "  from 
the  jewel  that  receives  its  light  and  shines  only  by  a  par- 
ticipation of  its  brightness."  ^  Individual  men  can  bring 
to  their  Maker  no  profit  which  he  cannot  as  well  secure 
without  them.  They  can  bring  no  gain  to  him  unless  they 
derive  the  power  to  bring  it  from  him  who  secures  the  gain. 
But  he  can  do  all  things :  he  can  of  the  very  stones  raise  up 
children  unto  Al)raham,  and  there  is  no  hyperbole  in  saying 
that  in  the  true  children  of  Abraham  his  "  soul  delighteth." 
It  is  a  literal  but  an  inspiring  truth  that  he  is  no  uninter- 
ested spectator  of  our  conduct,  but  has  an  unbounded  sym- 
patliy  with  us  and  for  us,  and  "  a  just  [perfect]  weight  is  his 
delight."     "  Such  as  arc  upright  in  their  way  arc  his  de- 

1  Edwards  on  "  Tlie  End  for  which  God  created  the  World  "  (ed.  1),  p.  33. 

2  Job  xxii.  2,  3  (Noyes's  Trnnslation). 

8  "The  End  for  which  God  created  the  World,"  p.  37. 


THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  201 

light."  "  Tliey  that  deal  truly  are  his  delight."  "  The  prayer 
of  the  upright  is  his  delight."  ^  The  delight  of  an  infinite 
mind  is  not  a  mere  and  cold  approval.  It  is  no  empty  figure 
of  speech.  It  is  a  real  and  deep  feeling.^  It  confers  an  in- 
expressible dignity  on  even  so  small  a  virtue  as  a  gift  of 
cold  water  to  a  disciple. 

But  having  done  all,  are  we  not  unprofitable  servants,  who 
have  done  no  more  than  it  was  our  duty  to  do  ?  "We  are 
unprofitable,  in  yielding  to  God  no  more  than  what  was  his  ; 
but  here  is  the  riches  of  his  glory,  that  he  is  delighted  with 
all  that  is  his,  and  is  therefore  delighted  with  us  when  we 
surrender  to  him  that  which  was  his  own.  It  has  been  said 
from  immemorial  times  that  the  Bible  disparages  the  consti- 
tution of  men.  It  does,  indeed,  condemn  their  character,  but 
it  exalts  their  constitution.  It  informs  us  that  our  capacities 
are  too  grand  for  allowing  the  Most  High  to  overlook  our 
iniquities ;  that  he  has  paid  an  infinite  price  for  our  pardon ; 
and  that  now  our  common  duties  to  our  fellow-men  are  "  well- 
pleasing  to  God  "  ;  that  we  are  bound  to  "  do  good  and  to 
communicate,  for  with  such  sacrifices  God  is  well  pleased  "  ; 

1  Prov.  xi.  1,  20  ;  xii.  22  ;  xv.  8. 

2  Objectors  often  say  that  the  divine  Architect  had  as  vivid  an  idea  of  all  his 
works  before  he  gave  existence  to  them  as  he  had  afterwards,  and  was  as  fully 
blessed  in  his  idea  of  them  as  he  has  been  in  the  actualization  of  his  idea. 
Reasoning  from  the  very  nature  of  mind,  may  we  not  venture  on  the  following 
reply  to  this  objection  ?  The  actual  existence  of  the  Creator's  works  is  itself  a 
good  added  to  their  ideal  being.  His  foreknowledge  of  them  as  actually  ex- 
isting is  a  greater  good  than  his  knowledge  of  them  as  merely  possible.  His 
blessedness  in  view  of  them  as  known  or  &s  foreknown  to  be  existing  realities,  is 
greater  than  his  blessedness  in  view  of  them  as  mere  objects  of  thought.  But 
he  always  foreknew,  as  clearly  as  now  he  knows,  them  to  be  actual  existences. 
He  was  always  perfectly  blessed  in  his  knowledge  or  in  his  foreknowledge  of  the 
realization  of  his  idea  of  them.  His  foreknowledge  that  they  would  actually 
exist  depended  upon  his  volition  to  give  them  existence.  The  blessedness,  then, 
which  he  has  always  derived  from  them  has  always  depended  upon  his  volition 
to  mal:e  them  existing  realities.  In  the  order  of  nature  his  blessedness  follows 
and  depends  upon  his  works  only  so  far  as  his  works  depends  upon  his  own 
will,  that  is,  upon  his  own  benevolence.  (Sec  Sermon  VII.).  His  dependenco 
upon  them  is  his  dependence  on  himself  originating  and  sustaining  them. 


202  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION. 

that  we  arc  Louiid  to  imitate  our  Redeemer  who  said  :  "  I  do 
always  the  things  that  are  pleasing  to  him."  ^ 

The  main  topic  of  this  discourse  suggests  the  following 
remarks. 

First.  We  see  the  utility  of  the  created  universe.  The 
question,  Why  hast  thou  made  all  men  in  vain  ?  is  expressed 
in  the  language  of  poetry,  and  may  be  answered  in  the  lan- 
guage of  prose  by  denying  the  fact ;  for  God  hath  made  all 
things,  not  in  vain,  but  for  himself.  In  certain  aspects  God 
is  one  with  his  universe  and  included  in  it.  The  plan  on 
which  it  is  formed  is  his  idea.  The  wisdom  which  marks  it 
is  his  wisdom.  We  have  no  conception  of  his  decrees  or  his 
providence  except  as  they  relate  to  things  which  he  has  made. 
If  he  is  the  Creator  there  must  have  been  something  created. 
If  he  is  the  Preserver  there  must  be  something  preserved.  If 
he  is  the  Governor,  he  must  have  something  to  govern.  If 
he  is  beneficent  he  must  have  objects  to  which  he  expresses, 
or  on  which  he  exercises,  his  love. 

We  often  read  of  useless  contrivances,  wasted  activities,  in 
nature.  But  nothing  has  been  made  without  its  utility.  The 
time  will  come,  we  presume,  when  the  tree  will  surrender  up 
to  man  its  hitlicrto  undiscovered  gum,  and  the  plant  will  no 
longer  conceal  its  medicinal  virtue.  The  knowledge  that 
there  is  yet  undeveloped  wealth  in  the  world,  is  a  present 
motive  for  adoring  its  Author.  His  excellence  proves  itself 
to  be  thus  far  unsearchable.  But  even  if  the  riches  of  t]ie 
earth  should  remain  locked  up  in  its  caverns  until  the  earthly 
explorer  has  ceased  his  search,  they  will  not  have  been  made 
for  no  purpose ;  for  there  is  One  who  rejoices  in  them  as 
treasures  hidden  in  the  field.  There  is  no  "  flower  [that]  is 
born  to  blush  unseen,  and  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert 
air " ;  for  he  who  from  eternity  determined  to  create  that 
flower,  and  wlio  now  from  year  to  year  garnereth  up  its 
precious    seeds,   and    scattereth   them   in  the   spring-time, 

1  Phi!,  iv.  18  ;  Hcb.  xiii.  16  ;  John  viii.  29. 


THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  203 

taketh  pleasure  in  the  beauty  with  which  he  carpeteih  the 
untrodden  wilds.  He  delighteth  to  see  the  bird  of  paradise 
making  its  nest  amid  the  leaves  of  cinnamon  which  no 
rude  boy  will  ever  disturb  or  discover.  Even  if  the  unde- 
tected riches  of  nature  should  never  be  employed  in  what 
men  call  the  useful  arts,  they  may  still  be  needed  for  preserv- 
ing the  symmetry  of  the  world,  the  architectural  grandeur 
of  that  which  contains  so  many  of  what  we  foolishly 
call  the  conveniences  of  life.  They  may  have  been  made  a 
fitting  garniture  to  the  palace  in  which  the  Son  of  our  King 
was  to  sojourn  during  his  visit  of  mysterious  meaning  to 
gather  up  here  his  jewels.  It  was  fit  that  the  pillars  of  the 
tabernacle  in  which  he  was  to  dwell  for  a  season  should  plant 
their  foundations  in  mines  of  gold  and  of  diamonds  ;  and  that 
the  very  sea  over  which  he  was  to  ride  should  be  floored  with 
the  mother-uf-pcarl.  It  was  meet  that  the  solitary  places  of  the 
world  which  he  was  to  consecrate,  should  be  perfumed  with 
groves  of  spices,  and  that  the  wilderness  where  he  was 
to  pray  "with  strong  crying  and  tears"  should  blossom 
as  the  rose  in  anticipation  and  in  memory  of  his  coming. 
It  was  meet  that  the  tenement  which  the  Son  of  God  was  to 
occupy  for  three  and  thirty  years,  should  be  "  a  land  of  hills 
and  valleys,  and  [which]  drinketh  water  of  the  rain  of  heaven ; 
a  land  which  the  Lord  thy  God  careth  for  ;  the  eyes  of  the 
Lord  thy  God  are  always  upon  it,  from  the  beginning  of  the 
year,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  year."  ^  We  cannot  ask  :  "  To 
what  purpose  is  this  waste?"'  when  the  greatest  object  in  the 
universe  is  encircled  with  such  insignia  of  royalty,  and  when 
treasures  arc  lavished  and  poured  out  with  exhaustless  prodi- 
gality upon  the  earth,  as  a  symbol  of  the  gcnerousness  of 
atoning  love. 

We  are  touched  by  the  simplicity  of  some  old  divines  who 
are  now  accused  of  having  exalted  their  metaphysical  theories 
of  religion  above  the  central  truth  of  the  atonement.  They 
harbored  a  strong   prejudice  against  the  notion   that  other 

1  Deut.  xi.  11,  12. 


204  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION. 

worlds  than  our  own  are  inhabited  by  intelligent  beings. 
When  called  to  answer  the  question,  why  so  many  empty 
globes  were  created,  these  divines  raised  their  thoughts  to 
the  very  truth  which  they  are  now  said  to  have  undervalued, 
but  which  they  in  fact  revered  as  the  brightest  glory  of  the 
Godhead ;  and  they  answered,  that  the  orbs  of  night,  even 
if  they  arc  tenantless,  were  not  made  in  vain.  They  may 
have  been  made  in  order  to  shine  forth  in  honor  of  him  whose 
advent  to  our  planet  was  heralded  by  the  cry  :  "  Glory  to 
God  in  the  highest."  They  may  have  been  made  in  order 
to  smile  upon  the  great  Captain  of  our  salvation  when  he  rode 
home  bearing  the  scars  of  his  conflict  on  earth.  They  may 
have  been  kindled  up  in  order  to  illuminate  his  passage  when 
be  should  come  for  the  last  time  and  gather  the  spoils  of  his 
dear-bought  victory.  It  was  deemed  a  good  thing  that  his 
hours  of  midnight  prayer  should  be  cheered  by  the  sweet 
influences  of  the  Pleiades,  and  that  the  Eastern  kings  who 
brought  frankincense  and  myrrh  to  honor  him  should  be 
guided  by  a  star  that  lingered  over  the  place  where  the  young 
child  lay. 

The  liistory  of  the  past  emboldens  us  to  believe  that  in  the 
future  all  the  principles  of  science  shall  be  unfolded  and 
illustrated  l^y  the  phenomena  which  are  at  present  unknown. 
The  knowledge  of  God's  works  is  a  recognition  of  his  char- 
acter, and  we  are  permitted  to  hope  that  the  spirits  of  heaven 
will  pursue  this  knowledge,  and  detect  its  usefulness  in  illus- 
trating Hie  glory  of  him  who  hath  made  all  things  for  him- 
self. Ilcavcn  is  the  school  of  science,  and  all  real  science  is 
but  the  syml)ol  of  the  glory  of  God,  whom  to  know  as  we 
should  know  him  is  life  eternal.  It  may  be  that  the  yet  un- 
discovered principles  of  geology  will  find  their  use  in  forming 
the  towers  and  bulwarks  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  and  the 
pavement  with  which  its  streets  arc  covered,  "  as  it  were 
transparent  glass."  It  may  be  that  the  yet  undetected  laws 
of  the  mineral  world  constitute  the  spiritual  sardonyx  and 
topaz  and  jacinth  and  amethyst  imbedded  in  the  foundations 


THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  205 

of  the  wall  which  is  garnished  with  all  manner  of  precious 
stones.  It  may  be  that  the  yet  unrecognized  beauties  of  the 
botanical  kingdom  will  be  woven  into  the  tissue  with  which 
the  Son  of  Man  is  to  be  apparelled  when  his  raiment  shall 
become  shining,  exceeding  white  as  snow,  so  as  no  fuller  on 
earth  can  white  them,  and  girt  about  with  a  golden  girdle. 
It  may  be  that  the  few  truths  which  we  have  as  yet  learned 
of  astronomy,  are  but  indices  of  a  science  which  will  one  day 
be  revealed  to  us,  and  which  will  be  concentrated  in  the 
crown  of  Immanuel,  inlaid  with  stars,  and  making  his  coun- 
tenance as  the  sun  shining  in  its  strength.  "  And  I  saw  no 
temple  therein,"  for  the  entire  character  of  God  is  the  tem- 
ple of  heaven,  and  its  Holy  of  Holies  is  the  heart  of  Jesus. 
We  know  that  all  things  were  made  by  him  and  for  him  who 
is  "  the  brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,"  and  therefore 
we  may  hope  that  the  science  of  all  things  which  are  now 
deemed  worthless,  will  one  day  unfold  new  glories  in  the 
character  of  him  who,  while  resplendent  in  the  light  of  all 
that  will  be  then  revealed,  can  be  only  described  as  John, 
inspired  as  he  was,  fails  to  describe  him  in  the  words :  "And 
when  I  saw  him,  I  fell  at  his  feet  as  dead."  ^ 

Second.  Our  subject  may  give  some  intimations  concern- 
ing the  future  blessedness  of  the  redeemed.  Even  now  it  is 
manifest  to  the  spiritual  eye  that  our  Father  has  interposed 
for  us  "to  the  end  that  we  should  be  unto  the  praise  of  his 
glory."  -  As  our  moral  vision  is  purified  we  discern  more 
and  more  clearly  the  threads  diverging  from  his  throne  and 
connecting  him  with  all  things  which  he  has  made.  Along 
these  lines  our  thoughts  are  conducted  from  all  the  points 
where  the  lines  terminate  up  to  him  with  whom  they  all  com- 
mence. Thus  all  objects  are  associated  with  the  love  of  God 
and  are  adapted  to  awaken  joy  in  his  character  and  govern- 
ment. They  are  inscribed  with  the  word  "^-/-atr"  within 
and  without.     The  cross  of  Jesus  is  enstamped  upon  them, 

1  Rev.  i.  17.  2  Eph.  i.  12,  6,  14. 


206  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION. 

and  their  nature  is  disregarded  in  comparison  with  the  sign 
of  this  cross.  An  event  may  be  connected  with  saddening 
memories,  but  the  atonement,  the  greatest  object  in  the  uni- 
verse, draws  away  the  attention  from  all  that  is  sombre  to 
him  who  shineth  in  bliss.  We  suppose  that  the  processes  of 
mental  association  will  be  so  regulated  that  he  l;)y,  in,  and 
for  whom  are  all  things  will  be  the  most  easily,  quickly,  and 
permanently  suggested  to  the  minds  of  the  redeemed,  even  by 
those  objects  which  may  at  first  apjDear  to  be  merely  painful ; 
and  he  is  only  to  be  seen,  and  peace  floweth  in  as  a  river.  If 
a  picture  could  be  drawn  of  all  the  saints  in  heaven,  the  idea 
of  the  scene,  the  attitude  of  the  redeemed,  would  be  that  sug- 
gested by  the  apostle, — "looking  unto  Jesus."  He  is  the 
great  attraction  which  allures  from  all  inferior  objects ;  the 
sun  which  drowns  in  its  effulgence  all  the  stars  of  this  lower 
sphere ;  and  therefore  all  who  value  the  greater  above  the 
less,  the  end  above  the  means,  will  be  found  at  all  times,  in 
all  states,  '  looking  unto  Jesus,  the  author  and  the  finisher  ©f 
their  faith.' 

The  question  is  often  proposed.  How  can  the  joy  of  a  saint 
be  absolutely  uninterrupted,  when  he  must  reflect  on  his  own 
sins,  which  are  fitted  to  awaken  remorse,  and  on  the  sins  of 
others,  which  are  fitted  to  awaken  grief  ?  It  is  a  great  mys- 
tery. "We  cannot  pierce  through  the  veil  screening  this 
problem  of  the  ages.  One  explanation,  however,  may  be  that 
Christ  is  a  larger  good  than  those  iniquities  are  an  evil ;  and 
the  very  evil  suggests  the  idea  of  him  who  has  made  an 
atonement  for  its  removal ;  and  the  idea  of  the  atonement  is 
one  of  transport,  occupying  the  soul  to  the  expulsion  of  lower 
thoughts.  Thus  even  on  the  cloud  is  painted  a  bow  which 
dazzles  the  eye  with  its  effulgence,  and  withdraws  attention 
from  tlie  darkness  of  the  background  which  it  spans.  The 
saints  deserve  to  feel  compunction  for  their  long-continued 
rejection  of  the  atonement ;  l)ut  as  they  reflect  on  what  tlicy 
have  rejected,  their  thoughts  may  linger  around  the  atone- 
ment, wliile  Ihe  rejection  of  it  may  be  hidden  in  the  excess 


THE  DESIGN  OP  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  207 

of  glory  which  it  has  suggested ;  and  the  object  for  which  all 
things  were  made  will  absorb  the  soul  and  fill  it  with  con- 
solation, while  their  ill-desert  is  but  the  remembrancer  of 
the  grace  which  educes  admiration,  love,  and  praise.  The 
laws  of  our  mental  suggestion  are  so  marvellously  contrived 
that  even  llic  thought  of  a  sorrow  will  suggest  a  joy  by  con- 
trast, and  the  soul  will  spring  into  the  joy  and  revel  in  it, 
forgetting  the  things  that  are  behind.  There  can  be  no 
darkness  in  heaven,  for  there  is  no  more  sea,  and  no  clouds 
to  intercept  the  rays  of  the  sun ;  for  he  who  made  all  things 
for  himself  is  the  Sun  which  shineth  through  and  over  and 
under  all  objects,  and  gilds  the  most  opaque  with  his  own 
light.  Therefore  we  are  taught,  in  language  which  we  infer 
from  our  theme  to  be  no  hyperbole,  that  he  who  is  the  end 
as  well  as  the  beginning,  the  last  as  well  as  the  first,  '  is  not 
ashamed  to  call  us  brethren ' ;  that  he  has  raised  us  up  with 
Christ,  and  made  us  sit  with  him  in  the  heavenly  places,  so 
"that  in  the  ages  to  come  lie  might  show  the  exceeding 
riches  of  his  grace  in  kindness  toward  us  in  Christ  Jesus."  ^ 
The  sacred  penmen  well-nigh  seem  to  weary  themselves  in 
order  to  express  the  love  of  God  to  his  church.  Language 
breaks  down  under  them  in  their  attempt  to  portray  this 
affection.  They  are  driven  to  all  expedients  to  symbolize 
their  ideas.  They  even  rifle  the  Oriental  love-song  of  its 
tender  epithets  that  they  may  shadow  forth  the  ardor  of  that 
love  which  is  the  love  of  a  God.  "  For  thou  art  a  holy  people 
unto  the  Lord  thy  God ;  the  Lord  thy  God  hath  chosen  thee 
to  be  a  special  people  unto  himself  above  all  the  people  that 
are  upon  the  face  of  the  eartli.  The  Lord  did  not  set  his  love 
upon  you,  nor  choose  you,  because  ye  were  more  in  number 
than  any  people,  for  ye  were  the  fewest  of  all  people ;  but 
because  the  Lord  loved  you."  2  "  Behold,"  saith  Jehovah, 
"  the  heaven  and  the  heaven  of  heavens  is  the  Lord's  thy 
God,  the  earth,  also,  with  all  that  therein  is.  Only  the  Lord 
had  a  delight  in  thy  fathers  to  love  them,  and  he  chose  their 

1  Eph.  ii.  7.  -  Dcut.  vii.  6,  7,  8. 


208  THE  DESIGN  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION. 

seed  after  Uicm,  even  you,  above  all  people,  as  it  is  this  day."  ^ 
And  this  love  of  Jehovah  to  his  church  he  will  gratify  ;  and 
in  order  to  gratify  it  he  will  lavish  riches  and  honor  at  your 
feet,  and  pour  out  upon  you  all  the  precious  things  of  his 
treasury,  and  will  display  his  glory  by  making  all  his  good- 
ness pass  before  you,  because  ye  are  one  in  hira  '  for  whom 
and  through  whom  are  all  things.' 

Third.  The  subject  of  this  discourse  may  give  new  strength 
to  the  preacher  of  the  gospel.  He  is  appointed  to  unfold  the 
character  of  him  Avhose  essential  glory  consists  in  his  perfect 
character  ;  to  proclaim  the  doctrines  tending  to  promote  the 
holiness  and  tlie  resulting  happiness  of  men  who  glorify  God 
by  their  happiness  in  holiness.  He  is  ordained  as  an  agent 
in  the  very  enterprise  for  which  the  world  was  foreordained. 
The  great  Architect  laid  the  plan  of  his  temple,  in  order  to 
finish  tliat  which  he  had  planned.  The  first  draft  of  the 
universe  was  sketched  for  the  honor  and  praise  of  true  virtue, 
and  it  will  be  filled  up  by  all  the  graces  for  which  the  initial 
lines  of  it  were  drawn.  Whatever  the  will  of  men  may  be, 
their  constitutional  instincts  are  in  favor  of  rendering  wor- 
ship to  God  ;  their  consciences  are  in  favor  of  the  design  for 
which  the  church  of  Christ  has  been  formed  and  its  ministry 
instituted.  When  their  depraved  will  leads  them  to  resist 
the  progress  of  true  virtue,  it  leads  them  to  oppose  the  very 
principles  of  the  human  constitution,  and  the  very  laws  by 
which  the  world  is  governed.  Our  Lawgiver  has  not  devised 
his  scheme  of  government  in  order  to  be  defeated  in  it.  There 
is  "  one  Lord,  one  faith,  one  baptism ;  one  God  and  Father  of 
all  who  is  over  all,  and  through  all,  and  in  all."  ^  Whatever 
else  may  fail,  his  great  scheme  will  triumph.  It  is  a  sad 
tnitli  that  some  men  will  resist  this  scheme  forever ;  but 
their  jmnisluncnt  will  prove  that  he  who  loves  the  right 
abhors  the  wrong,  and  liis  abliorcncc  of  sin  is  the  same  excel- 
lence  as  liis   delight   in   the  general  well-being.     He   will 

1  Doiit.  X.  14,  15.  -  Ejih    iv.  5,  6. 


THE  DESIGN  OP  GOD  IN  HIS  WORK  OF  CREATION.  209 

demonstrate  his  impartial  love  by  the  penalties  which  the 
general  welfare  compels  him  to  inflict.  His  ministers  may  be 
faint  to-day,  but  they  will  be  strong  hereafter.  They  may  be 
discouraged  this  year,  but  they  will  be  triumphant  at  last. 
They  may  dream  that  they  deliver  their  message  in  vain,  but 
when  they  awake  in  the  likeness  of  their  Maker  they  will  see 
that  in  some  way  unimagined  by  them  their  message  has 
illustrated  his  chai-acter,  and  thus  promoted  his  glory.  They 
may  be  forgotten  on  cartli,  but  will  be  remembered  by  him 
who  ordained  them  as  his  co-workers,  and  wrote  their  names 
on  the  palm  of  his  hand.  He  who  said  :  "  I  am  the  light 
of  the  world,"  said  to  his  ministers  :  "  Ye  are  the  light  of  the 
world."  They  are  '  a  city  set  on  a  hill  and  cannot  be  hid.' 
They  are  luminous  while  they  live  here,  and  will  be  more 
luminous  hereafter.  He  for  whom  and  by  whom  are  all 
things  has  inserted  in  Hie  very  scheme  of  his  universe  that 
they  who  are  "  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firma- 
ment, and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness,  as  the  stars 
forever  and  ever."  ^ 

1  Dan.  xii.  3. 


IX. 

THE  SYSTEM  OP  MORAL  INFLUENCES  IN  WHICH 
MEN  ARE   PLACED/ 


GENESIS     III.    13— le. 


AHD  THE  LORD  GOD  SAID  UKTO  THE  WOMAN,  WHAT  IS  THIS  THAT  THOU  HAST  DONBT 
AND  THE  WOMAN  SAID,  THE  SERPENT  BEGUII,ED  ME,  AND  I  DID  E4T.  AND  THE 
XORD  GOD  SAID  UNTO  THE  SERPENT,  BECAUSE  THOU  HAST  DONE  THIS,  THOU  ART 
CURSED  ABOVE  ALL  CATTLE,  AND  ABOVE  EVERY  BEAST  OP  THE  FIELD:  UPON  THY 
BELLY  SHALT  THOU  GO,  AND  DUST  SHALT  THOU  EAT  ALL  THE  DAYS  OF  THY  LIFE: 
AND  I  WILL  PUT  ENMITY  BETWEEN  THEE  AND  THE  WOMAN,  AND  BETWEEN  THY  SEED 
AND  HER  SEED  :  IT  SHALL  BRUISE  THY  HEAD,  AND  THOU  SHALT  BRUISE  HIS  HEEL. 
UNTO  THE  WOMAN  HE  SAID,  I  WILL  GREATLY  MULTIPLY  THY  SORROW  AND  THY  CON- 
CEPTION ;  IN  SORROWTHOU  SHALT  BRING  FORTH  CHILDREN  :  AND  THY  DESIRE  SHALL 
BE  TO  THY  HUSBAND,  AND  HE  SHALL  RULE  OVER  THEE.  AND  UNTO  ADAM  HE  SAID, 
BECAUSE  THOU  HAST  HEARKENED  UNTO  THE  VOICE  OF  THY  WIFE,  AND  HAST  EATEN 
OF  THE  TREE  OP  WHICH  I  COMMANDED  THEE,  SAYING,  THOU  SHALT  NOT  EAT  OF  IT! 
CURSED  IS  THE  GROUND  FOR  THY  SAKE;  IN  SORROW  SHALT  THOU  EAT  OF  IT  ALL 
THE  DAYS  OF  THY  LIFE;  THORNS  ALSO  AND  THISTLES  SHALL  IT  BRING  FORTH  TO 
THEE;  AND  THOU  SHALT  EAT  THE  HERB  OP  THE  FIELD:  IN  THE  SWEAT  OP  THT 
FACE  SHALT  THOU  EAT  BREAD,  TILL  THOU  RETURN  UNTO  THE  GROUND  ;  FOR  OUT 
OP  IT  WAST  THOU  TAKEN;  FOR  DUST  THOU  ART,  AND  UNTO  DUST  SHALT  THOtt 
KETVUN. 

One  man  finds  it  difficult  to  believe  that  the  writers  of  the 
Bible  were  inspired,  another  finds  it  difficult  to  believe  that 
they  were  not  inspired.  The  seven  verses  which  are  the  text 
of  the  present  discourse  are  regarded  bj  one  man  as  a  mere 
Oriental  legend,  by  another  man  as  a  figurative  expression 
of  scientific  truth.  The  truth  lying  under  these  words  is  too 
deep  to  have  been  so  vividly  exhibited  by  so  ancient  a  writer 
without  the  aid  of  special  illumination  from  above.  To  this 
profound  truth  let  us  now  direct  our  attention :  first,  to  the 
fact  that  men  live  under  a  system  of  mutual  influences ;  and 
secondly,  to  the  advantages  resulting  from  the  fact. 

*  See  Note  on  pp.  232-33. 


THE  SYSTEM  OP  MORAL  INFLUENCES.        211 

I.  Tlie  truth  delineated  in  our  text  is,  that  men  live  in  a 
system  all  the  parts  of  wliich  are  connected  together  and 
influence  each  other. 

1.  Our  text  reminds  us  that  we  produce  effects  upon  un- 
sentient  matter,  and  it  exercises  a  power  over  us,  and  in  this 
way  we  are  amalgamated  with  it.  We  arc  informed  that  at 
the  beginning  man  had  dominion  over  the  earth  and  its  fruits. 
He  was  to  subdue  the  land.  In  part,  his  sway  over  matter  is 
yet  retained.  He  now  makes  the  rough  places  smooth,  com- 
pels the  water  to  yield  a  subtile  ether  augmenting  the  velocity 
of  travel,  and  makes  the  lightning  hurry  along  the  tremu- 
lous wires  conveying  the  quickest  news.  But  his  influence 
over  the  earth  is  not  altogether  benignant.  Originally  the 
ground  was  cursed  for  Adam's  sake ;  and  in  all  succeeding 
time  it  has  been  cursed  anew  by  the  crimes  of  men,  for  men 
are  in  one  sense  representatives  of  Adam,  as  he,  in  another 
sense,  was  a  representative  of  them.  Not  seldom  do  they 
mar  the  beauty  of  a  landscape,  impoverish  the  soil  for  the 
gratification  of  a  disordered  appetite,  and,  eager  to  trouble 
an  enemy,  they  spread  devastation  over  scenes  of  former 
fruitfulness. 

Do  men  produce  an  impression  on  the  material  world  ? 
So  does  the  material  world  produce  an  impression  upon  men. 
"  In  the  sweat  of  thy  face,"  says  our  text,  "  shalt  thou  eat 
bread,"  — the  bread  that  cometh  from  the  soil, —  until  "  thou 
return  unto  the  ground,  for  out  of  it  wast  thou  taken,"  and 
out  of  the  ground  are  we  taken  still ;  out  of  the  soil  do 
we  derive  our  sustenance, —  for  says  the  text,  "in  sorrow 
shalt  thou  eat  of  it," — of  the  ground, —  "  all  the  days  of  thy 
life,  and  thou  shalt  eat  the  herb  of  the  field."  Our  bodies 
gathered  from  the  pastures  and  the  waters  and  the  atmos- 
phere, incorporate  us  with  the  earth  beneath  us  and  the  air 
above  and  around  us.  As  in  a  sense  we  are  one  with  Adam, 
so  in  a  sense  are  we  one  with  tlie  orchards  and  the  streams. 
Our   physical  nature  is  a  fruit  of  the  earth,  which  is  our 


212        THE  SYSTEM  OP  MORAL  INFLUENCES 

mother-earth.  Tlie  temperament  of  this  physical  nature  has 
a  power  over  our  moral  nature  ;  so  that  our  moral  nature  is 
intertwined  with  the  boughs  of  the  trees  and  the  clusters  of 
the  vineyard.  Our  entire  character  is  meliorated  by  the 
grandeur  of  the  stars  of  heaven  ;  and  a  well-known  poet, 
gathering  sentiment  from  the  expanse  of  the  ocean,  sings  in 
a  filial  thanksgiving  to  it : 

'*  I  was,  as  it  were,  a  child  of  thee." 

Does  matter  exert  a  favorable  influence  on  us  uniformly  ? 
Sometimes  the  influence  is  unfavorable.  Thorns  and  thistles 
shall  the  ground  bring  forth  to  thee,  was  the  suggestive  word  to 
Adam.  Thorns  and  tliistlcs  crowd  our  patliway  now.  One 
fruit  of  the  earth  is  the  vine,  and  the  fruit  of  the  vine,  hallowed 
though  it  be  by  sacramental  uses,  has  become  a  symbol  of 
wrangling  and  low  pleasure.  In  fatigue  of  the  body  does  the 
laborer  dig  up  gold,  and  the  gold  is  an  incentive  to  pride, 
and  is  stigmatized  as  filthy  lucre.  Our  most  familiar  words 
are  mementos  that  we  are  '  conceived  in  sin  and  shapen  in 
iniquity.'  We  speak  of  "  the  world,  the  flesh, and  the  devil" 
as  belonging  to  one  class.  The  phrase  "  of  the  earth, 
earthy  "  signifies  that  we  are  corruptible,  but  intimates  that 
we  are  polluted.  We  read  of  'the  law  in  the  members 
warring  against  the  law  of  the  mind,'  and  extorting  the  cry, 
"  0  wretched  man  that  I  am  !  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the 
body  of  this  death  ? " 

2.  Our  text  with  its  context  reminds  us  that  we  are  affected 
by  irrational  animals,  as  they  in  their  turn  are  affected  by 
ourselves,  and  thus  are  we  united  with  them.  "  Have  do- 
minion over  the  fish  of  the  sea,  and  over  the  fowl  of  the  air, 
and  over  every  living  thing  that  moveth  upon  the  earth"  i  was 
the  primitive  grant  to  our  race.  And  this  dominion  we  still 
in  some  degree  retain.  The  animal  tribes  minister  to  our 
wants,  bear  our  burdens,  undergo  for  us  heavy  toil;  some 
of  them  move  at  the  sound  of  the  names  which  we  give  them, 

1  Gen.  i.  28. 


IN  WHICH  MEN  ARE  PLACED.  213 

as  our  representative  gave  them  names  in  Eden ;  some  of 
them  become  incorporated  with  us  at  tlieir  death.  Out  of  the 
ground  come  the  plants,  and  they  drink  up  its  moisture  and 
gather  vitalizing  ingredients  from  the  atmosphere  ;  and,  says 
our  context,  "  to  every  beast  of  the  earth  I  have  given  every 
green  herb  for  meat"  ;  and  some  tribes  of  these  animals  are 
offered  as  nutriment  to  other  tribes,  and  these  in  their  turn 
are  offered  as  nutriment  to  man,  and  he  derives  from  them 
the  strength  which  they  have  collected  from  the  rains  and 
the  rivers  and  the  fruits,  and  thus  he  comes  into  union  with 
the  atmosphere  which  he  inhales  into  himself,  with  the 
harvests  which  are  incorporated  into  him,  and  with  the  herds 
and  the  flocks  which  form  his  physical  vigor. 

And  has  he  merely  a  physical  relation  to  the  animal  tribes  ? 
TVe  cannot  read  the  words  of  inspired  poets  without  catch- 
ing a  sentiment  from  the  forms  and  motions  of  the  sparrow 
alone  upon  the  house-top,  of  the  hart  panting  for  the  water- 
brook,  of  the  birds  which  make  the  air  a  temple  resonant 
with  God's  praise,  of  the  dove  and  the  lamb,  symbols  of  the 
divine  benevolence  and  of  the  vicarious  sacrifice.  "We  dis- 
pute on  the  question  whether  holy  men  were  inspired  to  utter 
what  they  did  not  understand ;  but  we  hold  no  debate  on  the 
question  whether  mere  animals  are  so  made  and  so  moved 
that  they  teach  us  more  truth  than  they  know  and  persuade 
us  to  the  virtue  which  they  can  never  practise. 

Is  our  connection  with  the  animal  races  uniformly  genial  ? 
Sometimes  it  is  the  opposite.  "  I  will  put  enmity  between 
thee  and  the  woman,  and  between  thy  seed  and  her  seed," 
was  the  address  to  the  serpent ;  and  here  is  a  representative 
of  an  inborn  repugnance  between  the  human  family  and 
various  families  of  the  brutes.  The  locust,  the  scorpion,  the 
dragon,  the  raven,  the  eagle  hasting  for  its  prey,  the  roaring 
of  the  lion,  the  voice  of  the  fierce  lion,  the  ranging  bear,  the 
bear  bereaved  of  her  whelps,  arc  all  connected  with  man, 
antagonistic  to  him,  and  are  emblems  of  that  punitive  justice, 
which,  though  it  be  pure  and  spiritual,  and  though  it  be  love, 


214         THE  SYSTEM  OP  MORAL  INFLUENCES 

yet  prompts  our  great  Ruler  to  <5xclaim ;  "  Now  consider 
this,  ye  that  forget  God,  lest  I  tear  you  in  pieces,  and  there 
he  none  to  deliver."  ^ 

And  is  it  merely  true  that  brutes  exercise  a  power  over 
man  ?  He  also  affects  them  for  evil  or  for  good.  Our  text 
informs  us  that  an  irrational  being  was  connected  with  the 
first  sin  of  man,  was  therefore  cursed  with  a  prone  form,  an 
earthy  sustenance,  an  exposure  to  violent  death,  and  its  very 
name  was  transferred  to  the  spiritual  serpent,  who  was  also 
connected  with  man  in  man's  first  disobedience.  And  since 
tliat  day,  men  have  earned  the  renown  of  heroes  at  the 
expense  of  hecatombs  of  unoffending  animals ;  and  on  ac- 
count of  human  iniquity, '  the  flock  has  been  cut  off  from  the 
fold,  and  there  has  been  no  herd  in  the  stall,'  and  "  I  beheld," 
says  the  weeping  prophet,  "  and,  lo,  there  was  no  man,  and 
all  the  birds  of  the  heavens  were  fled." 

3.  Our  text  reminds  us  that  men  exert  on  each  other  aa 
influence  for  evil  or  for  good,  and  so  are  connected  together 
in  one  system.  No  man  liveth  to  himself.  A  single  word 
of  a  friend  may  transform  for  good  or  ill  the  character  of  a 
sympathetic  circle.  A  solitary  act  is  often  an  example  mould- 
ing for  better  or  worse  the  temper  of  a  mutually  interested 
community.  A  Napoleon  has  troubled  the  world.  A  Wilber- 
force  has  soothed  it.  The  odes  of  Byron  have  hardened,  the 
hymns  of  Cowper  have  mellowed,  the  spirit.  Every  day 
some  careless  traveller  has  spread  an  infectious  disease 
through  a  ncigliborhood.  Every  day  some  beloved  physician 
has  provided  a  restorative  for  the  malady.  For  two  thousand 
years  there  has  been  a  school  of  philosophers  so  intimately  con- 
nected with  each  otlier  that  they  have  been  called  a  scholastic 
body,  and  Aristotle  has  been  its  vital  head,  and  both  truths 
and  errors  have  flowed  from  that  head  through  all  the  mem- 

1  Among  the  passages  in  which  mental  or  moral  qualities  are  illustrated  by 
references  to  the  animal  kingdom,  see  Num.  xxiii.  22  ;  xxiv.  8,  9  ;  Job  x.  16; 
Ps.  vii.  2  ;  1.  22  ;  Isa.  xxxi.  4,  5  ;  Lam.  iii.  10 ;  Hosea  v.  14 ;  xi.  10 ;  xiii.  7,  8. 


IN   WHICH   MEN   ARE  PLACED.  216 

bers  of  that  body.  Some  of  our  opinions,  right  and  wrong, 
may  be  imputed  to  him.  For  many  centuries  there  has  been 
a  school  of  divines  so  closely  united  that  they  have  been 
termed  a  theological  body ;  and  Augustine  has  been  its  head, 
and  many  truths  and  untruths  are  even  now  coursing  their 
way  from  him  through  all  the  members  of  the  body.  Some 
of  our  own  notions,  right  and  wrong,  may  be  imputed  to 
him. 

'  These  things  are  not  done  in  a  corner.'  They  are  open, 
plain,  in  the  broad  light  of  day.  And  all  the  evil  men  who 
have  ever  exerted  an  evil  influence  upon  us  are  in  one  sense 
representatives  of  that  disobedient  man  who  is  described  in 
our  text,  and  who  is  the  head  of  our  entire  race.  Warriors, 
incendiaries,  marauders,  ill-minded  magistrates,  perverse 
neighbors,  petulant  fathers  and  mothers,  have  disseminated 
trouble  among  their  fellow  mortals,  and  have  thus  carried 
out  on  a  small  scale  what  Adam  began  on  a  large  scale. 
The  sin  of  our  first  ancestor  was  the  occasion  on  which  it 
became  certain  that  his  posterity  would  have  an  evil  nature 
and  a  sinful  character.  So  intervolved  were  his  descendants 
with  himself  that  if  he  disobeyed  they  would  in  consequence 
of  their  nature  and  in  the  exercise  of  their  freedom  choose 
to  disobey.^  It  is  not  a  truth  peculiar  to  the  Bible  ;  it  is  a 
truth  of  natural   science,  that  the  offspring   are  like  their 

1  Among  the  diversified  forms  in  which  the  Fall  of  Man  is  expressed  are  the 
following  :  "All  mankind  descending  from  him  [Adam]  by  ordinary  generation, 
sinned  in  him,  and  fell  with  him  in  his  first  transgression."  Westminster  Shorter 
Catechism,  A.  16.  —  It  was  according  to  a  divine  constitution  that  if  Adam 
sinned,  all  his  posterity  would  sin  ;  "  in  consequence  of  his  [Adam's]  disobe- 
dience all  his  descendants  were  constituted  sinners"  ;  and  "by  nature  every  man 
IS  personally  dc[)raved/'  etc.  Andover  Creed. —  Bishop  Butler  in  an  incidental 
allusion  to  the  doctrine  uses  the  following  language  :  "  That  the  crime  of  our 
first  parents  was  the  occasion  of  our  being  placed  in  a  more  disadvantageous 
condition  is  a  thing  throughout,  and  particularly  analogous  to  what  we  see,  in 
the  daily  course  of  natural  Providence  ;  as  the  recovery  of  the  world  by  the 
interposition  of  Christ  has  been  shown  to  be  so  in  general."  Butler's  Complete 
Works,  Vol.  i.  p.  242  (Cambridge  ed.).  In  the  Bishop's  opinion  the  whole 
•'  constitution  and  course  of  nature"  may  bo  appealed  to  as  either  sanctioning, 
or  as  consistent  with  the  Biblical  doctrine  of  the  Fall. 


216  THE  SYSTEM  OP  MORAL  INFLTIENCES 

parent.  The  lamb  has  the  harmless  temper  of  the  genus 
from  which  it  sprung.  So  the  human  soul  was  fashioned  in 
the  image  of  its  Maker ;  but  as  our  ancestor  lost  this  like- 
ness, the  souls  of  his  children  have  been  formed  in  the  image 
of  his  own  apostate  mind.  Of  the  men  who  believe  in  his 
apostasy,  one  class  has  deemed  it  proper,  and  another  class 
has  deemed  it  unwise,  to  say  that  his  sin  is  imputed  to  his 
children,  but  the  two  classes  have  united  in  the  belief  that 
the  sin  of  his  children, —  the  sin  for  which  they  are  ever 
blameworthy,  because  in  it  they  are  ever  free,  may  yet  be 
imputed  to  him  in  the  sense  of  being  fathered  upon  him  as 
its  remote  occasion.  So  there  are  two  classes  of  men  who 
believe  with  equal  confidence  that  Christ  is  the  second  Adam 
set  over  against  the  first ;  that  as  the  first  Adam  is  the  head 
of  the  race,  so  the  second  Adam  is  the  head  of  the  church. 
One  of  these  classes  has  deemed  it  proper,  the  other  has 
deemed  it  unwise,  to  say  that  our  iniquities  are  imputed  to 
him  who  bore  them  on  the  tree  and  died  for  them.  Both  of 
these  classes,  however,  have  united  in  the  faith  that  all  our 
holiness  may  be  imputed  to  our  Elder  Brother,  for  it  was  all 
derived  from  him,  for  he  was  raised  from  the  dead  in  order 
that  he  may  give  repentance  to  Israel.^  We  love  him  because 
he  first  loved  us.  His  precious  example  wins  our  homage. 
His  endearing  words  draw  forth  our  gratitude.  By  his  death 
is  the  Spirit  purchased  for  us ;  and  without  his  death  is  no 
remission.  All  our  happiness  in  this  life  must  be  imputed 
to  him  suffering  for  our  earthly  peace.  All  our  happiness 
in  the  life  to  come  must  be  imputed  to  him  dying  that  we 
might  live  and  rising  again  that  as  in  Adam  all  die  so  in 
Christ  should  all  be  made  alive.  The  varied  benefactors  of 
our  race  are  symbols  of  this  illustrious  benefactor  who  is 
clearly  connected  with  Adam,  because  he  is  the  seed  of  the 
woman  from  which  we  all  spring  ;  and  he  is  clearly  connected 
with  us  because  he  sprung  from  our  ancestor,  and  he  is 
clearly  connected  with  God  because  he  is  the  Son  of  God, 

1  Acts  V.  31 ;  iii.  26 ;  Luke  xxiv.  46. 


IN  WHICH   MEN  ARE  PLACED.  217 

and  he  connects  us  with  God,  because  God  is  our  Father  and 
his  Father ;  and  thus  our  Mediator  unites  us  all  in  one. 

n.  "We  have  now  considered  the  fact  that  men  live  in  a 
system  the  various  parts  of  which  are  connected  together 
and  influence  each  other.  Let  us  next  consider  the  advan- 
tages resulting  from  this  fact. 

1.  The  connection  between  the  different  parts  of  the  sys- 
tem in  which  we  live  leads  us  to  trust  in  the  sovereignty  of 
Jehovah.  "We  may  imagine  that  it  were  better  to  have  every 
plant  independent  of  every  other.  If  a  rock  fall  from  the  hill- 
top, let  it  not  bruise  the  tender  grass.  If  a  tree  be  prostrated, 
let  it  break  down  no  contiguous  tree.  But  the  plants  and 
the  rocks  and  the  trees  are  not  thus  disconnected  with  other 
things.  All  things  are  interdependent,  not  because  we  would 
have  it  so,  but  because  He  would  have  it  so  who  takes  an 
enlarged  view  of  the  great  system,  who  sees  the  bearings  of 
one  event  upon  a  remote  history,  the  influence  of  a  single 
feeling  upon  distant  orders  of  intelligences,  the  relations  of 
all  things  to  each  and  of  each  to  all,  and  who  makes  all 
things  work  together  for  the  good  of  them  who  love  him. 
Perhaps  we  are  so  combined  with  the  remoter  parts  of  his 
universe  that  on  their  account  and  for  their  good  we  must 
be  exposed  to  evil.  It  may  be  expedient  for  a  few  men  to 
suffer  pain,  that  distant  realms  may  not  perish.^  It  may  be 
that  the  virtue  of  multitudes  who  are  yet  to  be  created  will 
be  strengthened  by  their  knowledge  of  the  sufferings  now 
endured ;  and  virtue  is  too  precious  a  good  to  be  lost  for  the 
sake  of  mere  freedom  from  pain.  Tliere  are  graces  of  com- 
passion, of  sympathy,  which  cannot  be  exercised  by  even  the 
good,  unless  there  be  some  woe  to  call  them  forth.  Inno- 
cent beings  themselves  may  learn  to  perform  new  duties  by 

1  John  xi.  50,  Men  wlio  are  unwilling  to  allow  that  the  sufferings  of  a  few 
are  providentiaJhj  designed  for  the  welfare  of  tlie  many,  are  yet  willing  to  allow 
that  the  sufferings  of  a  few  are  actually  conducive  to  the  welfare  of  the  many. 
They  object  not  so  much  to  the  fact  as  to  the  design  of  the  fact. 


218         THE  SYSTEM  OF  MORAL  INFLUENCES 

the  discipline  of  pain.  Courage,  patience,  fortitude,  resigna- 
tion, perseverance,  are  unknown  where  there  is  no  hardship 
to  endure.  For  men  who  are  entirely  sinful,  it  is  well  that 
the  earth  is  not  a  lap  on  which  they  can  rest  with  ease.  Per- 
haps new  forms  of  goodness  might  adorn  even  angelic  min4s, 
if  they  were  subjected  to  severe  toil ;  and  there  is  no  species 
of  goodness  but  is  cheaply  bought  at  the  price  of  suffering. 
For  suffering  is  not  the  greatest  of  evils  ;  sin  is  greater ;  the 
"want  of  a  varied  holiness  is  greater.  "We  must  confide,  then, 
in  the  comprehensive  benevolence  of  him  who  understands 
all  the  modes  in  which  our  social  liabilities  to  evil  are  coupled 
with  benefits  more  than  compensating  for  the  evils  incident 
to  them.  We  may  wisely  rejoice  in  the  reign  of  him  who 
has  for  the  plan  of  his  government  such  reasons  as  we  are 
too  small  minded  to  estimate,  whose  sovereignty  consists  in 
conducting  his  administration  according  to  principles  too  pro- 
found, too  good,  for  us  to  comprehend.  Therefore, '  the  glory 
of  the  Lord  is  to  conceal  a  thing,'  and  to  bid  us  walk  by 
faith  where  we  cannot  walk  by  sight. 

2.  The  fact  that  the  system  to  which  we  belong  is  charac- 
terized by  reciprocal  influences,  reveals  the  equity  of  its 
author.  The  Bible  has  been  condemned  because  it  describes 
the  Lord  as  "  visiting  the  iniquity  of  the  fathers  upon  the 
children  unto  the  third  and  fourth  generation."  ^  But  this 
description  is  not  peculiar  to  the  Bible.  The  whole  world 
gives  the  same,  and  our  subject  explains  the  reason  of  it. 
The  children  who  suffer  on  occasion  of  their  parent's  sin  are 
either  themselves  innocent,  or  they  are  guilty  ;  and,  on  either 
supposition,  it  is  right  for  the  great  Sovereign  to  afflict  them 
for  the  general  well-being. 

Let  us  suppose  that  they  are  innocent.  The  Lord  cursed 
the  unoffending  ground  for  man's  sake.  In  order  to  ex- 
press his  abhorrence  of  sin  he  has  consumed  the  trees  and 
the  herds  of  sinful  proprietors.     We  suppose  that,  ages  before 

J  Ex.  XX.  5. 


IN  WHICH   MEN   ARE  PLACED.  219 

the  crime  of  Adam,  there  was  death  among  the  animal  tribes, 
violent  and  painful  death.  When  he  rebelled,  the  pains  of 
animals  may  have  been  associated  with  his  rebellion,  may  have 
become  a  sign  of  its  malignity,  as  the  bow  at  the  time  of  the 
flood  assumed  a  new  and  moral  significance.  The  death  of 
animals,  then,  which  was  right  before  the  sin  of  Eden,  was 
right  afterwards  in  connection  with  that  sin.  On  the  same 
principle  the  woes  of  a  child,  even  if  he  be  supposed  guiltless 
as  a  lamb  or  dove,  may  be  justified  as  emblems  of  the  divine 
displeasure  toward  the  guilt  of  others, —  the  guilt  of  parents, 
the  guilt  of  the  race,  of  Adam  as  the  ancestor,  head,  repre- 
sentative of  the  race. 

When  Dathan  and  Abiram  fell  into  crime,  the  earth  swal- 
lowed up  their  houses  and  all  th*eir  goods  ;  for  these  inani- 
mate substances  were  all  associated  with  the  sacrilege  of 
their  owners,  and  were  therefore  fitly  associated  with  the 
displeasure  of  heaven.  If  the  children  of  these  profane  men 
had  been  spotless  as  the  jessamine,  there  had  been  no  wrong 
in  calling  them  from  the  world  at  the  time  of  their  fathers' 
exit.  They  would  have  suffered  no  legal  penalty  implying 
that  they  had  commited  a  sin  which  they  never  did  commit ; 
they  would  have  been  merely  afflicted  during  a  brief  hour  in 
order  to  illustrate  the  evil  of  their  fathers'  crime  and  to 
express  the  divine  abhorrence  of  all  crime,  and  then  would 
have  passed  into  the  arms  of  him  who  when  on  earth  took 
up  little  children  in  his  arms,  and  who  now  ever  liveth  and 
taketh  up  little  children  from  the  earth  unto  himself ;  for  he 
knowcth  their  frame,  he  remcmbereth  that  they  are  dust. 
We  can  trust  their  spirits  with  his  kindness.  A  mother  may 
forget  her  offspring,  but  God  will  never  forget  the  objects  of 
his  care.  His  love  is  the  quickening  principle  of  his  most 
mysterious  dispensations. 

If  now  the  great  Sovereign  who  keeps  justice  and  judg- 
ment for  the  habitation  of  his  throne  when  clouds  and  dark- 
nes's  are  round  about  him,  has  the  right  to  afflict  the  children 
on  occasion  of  their  father's  sin  even  if  the  children  be  re- 


220         THE  SYSTEM  OF  MORAL  INFLUENCES 

garded  as  innocent,  much  more  has  he  this  right  if  they  bo 
regarded  as  guilty.  For,  so  long  as  guilty,  they  deserve  to 
suffer  for  their  own  sins  ;  and  their  parent's  iniquity  may  be 
an  occasion  on  which  God  determines  to  inflict  upon  them 
the  pain  which  they  merit  for  themselves.  Justice  allows 
him  to  send  their  deserved  punishment  upon  them  at  any 
time  ;  he  selects  the  opportunity  of  their  parent's  trans- 
gression, but  he  might  inflict  the  same  penalty  upon  them 
without  any  such  antecedent  as  the  parental  guilt.  A  merited 
penalty  may  be  inflicted  on  the  offspring  when  or  before  or 
after  it  is  inflicted  upon  the  progenitors. 

But  God  has  made  a  distinction  broad  as  possible  between 
the  merited  or  legal  punishment  for  a  man's  own  sin,  and 
the  pains  to  which  a  man  is  subjected  for  the  sins  of  others. 
"  What  mean  ye,"  he  exclaims,  in  a  most  affecting  plea  for 
his  own  uprightness,  "  that  ye  use  this  proverb,  saying,  The 
fathers  have  eaten  sour  grapes,  and  the  children's  teeth  are 
set  on  edge  ? "  ^  There  is  an  intrinsic  absurdity  in  the  very 
idea  of  such  a  transference  of  sensations  from  him  who 
eateth  to  him  who  eateth  not.  "  As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord 
God,  ye  shall  not  have  occasion  any  more  to  use  this  proverb. 
....  K  a  man  be  just,  and  do  that  which  is  lawful  and  right 

he  shall  surely  live,"  and  if  a  sinful  man  "  beget  a  son 

that  seeth  all  his  father's  sins  and  doeth  not  such  like,"  ^  that 
son  shall  not  die  in  legal  punishment  for  the  iniquity  of  his 
father ;  he  shall  surely  live.  "  Yet  say  ye,  Why  ?  doth  not  the 
son  bear  the  iniquity  of  the  father  ? "  ^  Do  we  not  see  this 
occurence  every  day  ?  The  son  is  connected  with  the  father, 
he  may  suffer  pains  in  consequence  of  that  connection  ;  but 

"  when  the  son hath  kept  all  my  statutes he  shall 

surely  live.  The  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die  ;  the  son  shall 
not  bear  "*  the  legal  punishment  of  the  iniquity  of  the  father, 
neither  shall  the  father  bear  the  legal  punishment  of  the 
iniquity  of  the  son.     "  Yet  ye  say.  The  way  of  the  Lord  is 

1  Ezek.  xviii.  2.  2  ^zek.  xviii.  3,  5,  9,  14. 

8  Ezek.  xviii.  19.  "  Ezek.  xviii.  19,  20. 


IN   WHICH   MEN    ARE  PLACED.  221 

not  equal.  0  house  of  Israel,  are  not  my  ways  equal  ?  Are 
not  your  ways  unequal  ?  Therefore  I  will  judge  you  every 
one  according  to  his  ways.  Turn  yourselves  from  all  your 
transgressions,  so  iniquity  shall  not  be  your  ruin.  Cast  away 
from  you  all  your  transgressions  whercl^y  ye  have  trans- 
gressed ;  for  why  loill  ye  die,  0  house  of  Israel  ?  For  I  have 
no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  him  that  dieth,  saith  the  Lord 
God ;  wherefore  turn  yourselves  and  live  ye."  ^  If  an  omnis- 
cient mind  had  desired  to  express  in  more  distinct  terms  the 
idea  that  no  moral  penalty  of  a  moral  law  shall  be  inflicted 
upon  an  innocent  being,  we  do  not  perceive  how  such  a  mind, 
knowing  all  thoughts,  all  illustrations,  all  words,  could  have 
selected  plainer  terms  for  expressing  this  simple  idea. 

This  idea  is  illustrated  in  all  history.  The  treason  of 
Korah  was  bold,  he  enticed  the  multitude  into  a  nefarious 
alliance  with  him,  and  the  discriminating  Judge  said  unto 
Moses  and  Aaron,  "  Separate  yourselves  from  among  this  con- 
gregation, that  I  may  consume  them  in  a  moment.  And  they 
[Moses  and  Aaron]  fell  upon  their  faces  and  said,  0  God, 
the  God  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh,  shall  one  man  sin,  and  wilt 
thou  be  wroth  with  all  the  congregation  ?"  ^  But  it  was 
the  divine  purpose  to  distinguish  the  precious  from  the  vile. 
Then  Moses  proclaimed  to  the  congregation,  with  voice  loud 
and  quick,  "  Depart,  I  pray  you,  from  the  tents  of  these 

wicked  men lest  ye  be  consumed  in  all  their  sins."  ^ 

The  opportunity  was  given.  Tlie  line  was  fairly  drawn. 
The  innocent  separated  themselves  from  the  guilty.  "  The 
children  of  Korah  died  not,"  ^  although  he  himself  perished 
by  the  "  fire  from  the  Lord."  ^  Some  of  his  descendants 
became  eminent  in  the  Levitical  service.  Several  of  the 
Psalms  were  inscribed  to  them.  But  "  Dathan  and  Abiram 
stood  in  the  door  of  their  tents,  and  their  wives  and  their  sons 
and  their  little  children,  and  the  earth  opened  her  mouth  and 
swallowed  them  up  and  their  houses, —  and  they  and  all  that 

1  Ezck.  xviii.  25,  29-32.  2  jjum.  xvi.  21,  22.  »  Num.  xvi.  26. 

■•  Num.  xxvi.  11.  *  Num.  xvi.  35. 


222         THE  SYSTEM  OF  MORAL  INFLUENCES 

appertained  to  them  went  down  alive  into  the  pit And 

all  Israel  that  were  round  about  them  fled  at  the  cry  of  them ; 
for  they  said,  Lest  the  earth  swallow  us  up  also."  ^  These 
men  perished  in  their  own  sin,  and  for  their  own  sin.  They 
followed  the  lead  of  Korah,  attached  themselves  to  his  party 
by  free  choice,  and  his  iniquity  was  visited  upon  them, 
because  they  participated  in  it.  And  the  whole  race  of 
Adam  may  endure  many  pains,  and  fall  into  divers  tempta- 
tions on  account  of  his  first  disobedience  ;  but  unless  they 
sympathize  with  his  disobedience,  unless  they  imitate  his 
sin,  and  thus  endorse  it  by  cherishing  it,  they  will  endure 
no  eternal  punishment  therefor ;  but  as  the  Lord  liveth,  the 
afflictions  of  this  present  life  will  yield  for  them,  if  they  do 
not  indulge  in  sin,  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness.  A 
man  may  suffer  pain  ;  but  no  man  shall  suffer  moral  punish- 
ment unless  he  himself,  freely,  voluntarily,  "  would  have 
it  so." 

3.  It  has  been  already  intimated,  but  needs  to  be  specially 
emphasized,  that  the  mental  dependencies  of  all  parts  of  the 
universe  illustrate  the  evil  of  sin.  If  we  understand  the  evil 
of  sin  we  may  appreciate  the  worth  of  virtue.  One  reason 
why  we  do  not  appreciate  the  excellence  of  the  divine  law 
and  the  grandeur  of  the  atonement  is,  that  we  do  not  under- 
stand the  vileness  of  that  which  the  law  forbids  and  which  the 
atonement  was  intended  to  prevent.  Unnumbered  errors 
flow  from  the  failure  to  consider  the  enormity  of  the  smallest 
transgression.  In  the  history  of  Adam  lies  imbedded  a  deep 
philosophy.  It  explains  the  very  structure  of  tlie  human 
mind,  the  laws  according  to  Avhicli  our  ideas  and  our  emotions 
are  associated  together.  The  objections  against  our  depend- 
ence on  the  head  of  our  race  are  in  reality  objections  against 
the  constitutional  order  of  our  thoughts.  Many  families  have 
desired  to  change  their  name  because  the'  name  has  been 
tarnished  by  sonn)  criminal.     He  disgraced  tliem  even  though 

>■  Num.  xvi.  27,  32-34. 


IN   WHICH   MEN   ARE  PLACED.  223 

his  blood  was  foreign  from  their  own.  The  relatives  of 
many  a  Dathan  have  felt  that  they  were  buried  in  a  pit  of 
dishonor  because  the  crime  of  their  kinsman  was  suggested 
whenever  they  themselves  were  mentioned.  Whether  they 
merited  their  dishonor  or  not,  they  suffered  an  evil  from 
their  social  liabilities.  In  our  thoughts  we  extend  the  man 
over  "all  that  appertains  to  him."  The  divine  judgments 
upon  him  correspond  with  this  order  of  our  thoughts,  and  are 
spread  out  over  the  same  large  sphere.  When  our  feelings 
against  a  malefactor  are  deeply  stirred,  we  find  it  natural  to 
extend  them  over  his  dwelling-place  and  the  gardens  that 
surround  it ;  the  animals  that  serve  him,  the  assistants  who 
attend  upon  him,  his  ancestors  and  his  posterity.  The 
troubles  which  flow  from  his  crime  spread  themselves  out 
through  a  vast  circle. 

To  taste  the  forbidden  fruit  was  the  act  of  a  moment,  but 
the  disasters  that  followed  that  brief  rebellion  have  diffused 
themselves  through  all  the  race  through  all  time.  If  our 
apostate  father  exercised  a  true  faith  in  the  promise  of  our 
text,  that  the  seed  of  the  woman  should  bruise  the  head  of  the 
spiritual  serpent,  and  if,  therefore,  the  first  Adam  has  been 
saved  from  remorse  as  we  devoutly  trust  that  he  has  been 
redeemed  by  the  second  Adam,  he  must  in  heaven  perceive 
more  vividly  than  any  abstract  lesson  could  teach  him,  how 
bitter  a  thing  it  is  to  offend  in  one  point.  For  he  offended 
once,  and  the  pains  of  women  in  travail,  and  the  shrieks  of 
dying  men,  and  the  throngs  of  spirits  who  have  imitated  noth- 
ing but  his  transgression,  and  have  plunged  and  are  plunging 
into  the  ruin  for  which  he  first  paved  the  easy  way,  are  all 
comments  on  the  mischievous  nature  of  a  single  disobedi- 
ence. And  if  we  make  the  supposition,  which  we  may  be 
allowed  to  make  while  we  do  not  believe  it  to  be  the  true 
one,  that  he  is  now  suffering  the  death  involved  in  the 
threatening  of  our  text,  his  punishment  must  be  aggravated 
in  view  of  the  evils  which  he  has  occasioned.  For  all  the 
famine  and  the  pestilence  and  the  bloodshed  and  the  linger- 


224  THE   SYSTEM   OF  MORAL  INFLUENCES 

ing  sicknesses  and  the  harrowing  fears  of  his  posterity  on 
earth,  arc  added  to  the  remorse  and  the  anguish  of  his. 
descendants  who  have  now  passed  and  lost  their  probation,, 
and  they  must  give  a  new  volume  to  the  waves  of  trouble 
that  roll  over  him.  Under  this  accumulation  of  sorrows, 
gathered  from  all  his  posterity  in  all  lands,  upon  his  own 
head,  and  to  be  collected  still  from  the  north  and  the  south, 
the  east  and  the  west,  wherever  his  descendants  follow  his 
pernicious  ways,  he  reads  a  lesson  more  impressive  than  any 
words  can  render  it,  "  Sin  is  exceeding  sinful." 

Here  is  the  measure  of  the  guilt  of  a  single  act  starting  a 
train  of  other  acts  laden  with  a  similar  guilt.  Here  is  the 
divine  estimate  of  the  blameworthiness  of  one  wrong  thought 
opening  a  course  expanding  and  deepening  of  similar  thoughts. 
This  is  the  law  which  God  adopts  ;  he  teaches  by  example, 
by  fact;  he  manifests  the  heinousness  of  transgression  by 
pain  diffused  through  all  the  avenues  of  the  system  into 
which  the  lines  of  mental  association  arc  drawn  out.  And 
the  lesson  taught  by  the  results  of  Adam's  sin  is  taught 
by  every  sin.  It  is  nothing  arbitrary,  nothing  sectarian, 
nothing  biblical  more  than  it  is  scientific.  It  is  written  in 
the  very  constitution  of  the  mind  and  body,  the  family  and 
the  tribe.  It  need  not  imply  any  special  interposition  of 
divine  providence.  It  is  the  normal  result  of  the  very  nature 
of  transgression  that  it  shall  circulate  its  mischiefs  through- 
out the  sphere  in  which  the  transgressor  moves.  The  crime 
of  Benedict  Arnold  enveloped  the  germs  of  a  wide-spread 
calamity.  Upon  the  third  generation  has  descended  the 
shame  of  the  traitor  as  really  as  the  treason  of  Dathan  and 
Abiram  was  visited  upon  their  relatives.  His  former  dwelling 
has  been  often  regarded  with  abhorrence,  and  all  that  apper- 
tained to  him  has  been  swallowed  up  in  infamy.  The  results 
of  his  treason  have  been  a  warning  against  a  repetition  of  it. 
Many  a  fatlicr  has  been  deterred  from  crime,  not  so  much 
by  the  fear  of  his  own  infamy,  as  by  the  dread  of  burying 
his  offspring  in  his  ruin.     He  is  bound  to  his  little  ones  by 


IN   WHICH   MEN   ARE   PLACED.  225 

a  golden  chain.  He  fears  to  walk  in  the  way  of  transgres- 
sion lost  lie  draw  with  him  those  who  are  attached  to  his 
very  being  by  this  strong  connective.  He  recoils  from  the 
guilt  of  inducing  them  so  to  act  that,  while  they  suffer  their 
merited  pain,  they  may  yet  impute  their  ruin  to  his  example. 
Here  is  the  profound  instruction  written  in  the  law  that  the 
iniquities  of  the  father  shall  be  visited  upon  the  son. 

As  this  law  works  forward,  so  there  is  a  similar  law  which 
works  backward.  Children  sometimes  tempt  their  parent 
into  iniquity.  He  yields  to  their  wicked  appliances.  His 
sin  is  imputed  to  them  even  while  his  conscience  reprimands 
him  for  dallying  with  their  solicitations.  It  is  in  the  consti- 
tution of  things  that  the  disgrace  of  a  son  covers  the  father 
with  ignominy.  The  transgressions  of  the  children  are  visited 
upon  the  parent,  for  the  virus  of  iniquity  is  active,  energetic, 
rushing  upward  and  downward,  to  the  right  and  to  the  left, 
ascends  to  the  father  and  the  mother  as  well  as  descends  to 
the  son  and  the  daughter.  "  A  foolish  son  is  a  grief  to  his 
father  and  bitterness  to  her  that  bare  him."  "  Sharper  than 
a  serpent's  tooth  it  is  to  have  a  thankless  [or  a  vicious] 
child." 

Wlien  the  youug  man  is  far  from  the  homestead  of  his 
mother,  and  recalls  her  tender  care,  her  winning  smiles  and 
soft  entreaties,  he  reins  in  his  impetuous  passions  lest  he 
make  his  mother's  name  a  by-word  and  a  hissing  among 
strangers,  and  lest  he  drive  sleep  from  her  eyes,  and  slumber 
from  her  eyelids  until  she  lay  down  her  head  on  the  lap  of 
the  earth, —  her  mother-earth  whence  she  was  taken, —  and 
her  spirit  fly  to  the  land  where  the  wicked  children  cease 
from  troubling  and  the  weary  mothers  are  at  rest.  There 
cannot  be  a  more  instructive  lesson  on  the  evils  of  parental 
indulgence  and  of  filial  ingratitude  than  is  found  in  the 
simple  narrative  of  the  priest  who  was  ninety  and  eight  years 
old,  whose  sons  had  been  violent  and  boisterous,  and  had 
needed  to  be  held  in  with  bit  and  bridle,  but  he  had  endeav- 
ored to  guide  them  by  merely  gentle  touches  and  sometimes 


226         THE  SYSTEM  OF  MORAL  INFLUENCES 

had  yielded  the  reins  to  their  headstrong  temper.  Therefore 
said  the  Lord  to  him,  '  Behold  the  days  come  that  I  will  cut 
off  thine  arm,  and  the  arm  of  thy  father's  house,  that  there 
shall  not  be  an  old  man  in  thy  lineage,  and  all  the  increase 
of  thine  house  shall  die  in  the  flower  of  their  age.  And  I 
will  bring  upon  thee  such  an  evil  that  whosoever  heareth  of 
it,  both  his  ears  shall  tingle.'  And  the  old  man  sat  by  the 
way-side  waiting  for  the  result  of  the  battle  of  the  Philistines ; 
and  when  he  heard  that  his  two  sons  were  slain  and  the  ark 
of  God  was  taken,  "  he  fell  from  off  the  seat  backward  by  the 
side  of  the  gate,  and  his  neck  brake,  and  he  died,  for  he  was 
an  old  man  and  heavy,  and  he  had  judged  Israel  forty 
years."  ^  His  parental  unfaithfulness  was  visited  upon  his 
children,  and  their  filial  perverseness  was  visited  upon  their 
parent ;  he  was  a  representative  of  ill-deserving  fathers,  and 
both  he  and  they,  as  well  as  David  and  Hezekiah  and  Manas- 
seh  and  Adam  illustrate  the  great  truth  that  all  sin  is  adverse 
to  the  very  elements  of  our  constitution,  and  therefore  pro- 
lific of  inward  as  well  as  outward  woe,  that  the  parts  of  the 
family  and  the  social  and  the  national  and  the  universal 
system  are  so  adjusted  to  each  other  that  if  one  be  disturbed, 
all  are  confused,  and  wherever  there  is  delinquency  there 
will  be  heartache  and  remorse. 

4.  Herein  it  becomes  evident  that  the  connections  pervad- 
ing the  system  in  which  we  dwell,  abound  with  persuasives 
to  a  holy  life.  "  Blessed  is  the  man  that  feareth  the  Lord, 
ihat  dclighteth  greatly  in  his  commandments.  His  seed 
shall  be  mighty  upon  earth."  God  will  remember  the  faith- 
fulness of  his  friends  even  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation 
•of  them  that  love  him.  He  has  made  parental  affection 
both  an  instinct  and  a  duty.  It  is,  then,  both  a  natural  and 
:a  moral  stimulus  to  the  exercise  of  virtues  which  had  else 
lain  dormant.  He  has  so  contrived  the  laws  of  mental 
'.association  that  the  honor  of  a  parent  is  diffused  in  tht. 

1  1  Sam.  ii.  31,  33  ;  iii.  11 ;  iv.  13,  18. 


IN   WHICH   MEN   ARE   PLACED.  227 

popular  mind  over  the  children,  and  they  inherit  his  good 
name.  Thousands  of  men  and  women  have  been  first 
prompted  to  a  beneficent  life  by  the  desire  to  bequeath  a  good 
character  and  a  good  reputation  to  their  offspring.  Natural 
instinct  has  aided  piety.  "  For  I  know  Abraham,  that  he 
will  command  his  children  and  his  household  after  him,  and 
they  shall  keep  the  way  of  the  Lord  to  do  justice  and  judg- 
ment." They  were  blessed  for  their  father's  sake  ;  and  to 
him,  in  some  measure,  are  their  virtues  to  be  imputed.  And 
this  great  law  of  influence  as  well  as  of  association  1.3  oft- 
times  reversed.  Parents  have  been  reclaimed  by  their  off- 
spring from  sin.  The  prayer  of  a  dying  child  has  reformed 
a  wayward  father.  The  self-denials  of  a  youthful  missionary 
have  nourished  in  his  parents  a  spirit  of  self-sacrifice.  As 
the  patriarch  was  raised  from  his  humble  tent  in  Goshen  to 
a  seat  near  the  throne  of  Egypt  by  the  intervention  of  a  son, 
so  many  an  aged  father  has  been  introduced  into  the  king- 
dom of  Jehovah  and  stationed  at  the  right  hand  of  that 
higher  than  Egyptian  throne  by  the  instrumentality  of  his 
offspring  who  have  power  with  God  and  prevail  in  their  inter- 
cessions. Hundreds  of  ingenuous  youth  in  our  cities  and 
schools  are  stimulated  to  a  life  of  diligence  by  the  hope  of 
reflecting  honor  on  their  progenitors.  This  is  but  a  symbol 
of  the  nobler  motive  which  ought  to  animate  the  young,  who 
by  an  exemplary  life  and  earnest  prayer,  may  brighten  and 
multiply  the  glories  in  the  midst  of  which  their  parents  may 
walk  and  shine  throughout  their  blessed  immortality. 

This  reciprocal  influence  of  parents  and  children  is  a 
symbol  of  other  influences  exerted  by  teachers  over  pupils 
and  pupils  over  teachers,  by  rulers  over  the  people  and  the 
people  over  rulers,  by  the  rich  over  the  poor  and  the  poor 
over  the  rich,  the  learned  over  the  ignorant  and  the  igno- 
rant over  the  learned.  There  is  an  active  benevolence 
which,  like  a  shuttle,  weaves  together  the  warp  and  the  woof 
of  society.  As  there  are  ministries  of  evil  which  we  must 
resist  on  account  of  the  ease  with  which  their  spreading 


228         THE  SYSTEM  OP  MORAL  INFLUENCES 

mischiefs  go  forth  into  all  the  relations  of  life,  so  there  are 
ministries  of  good  which  we  are  incited  to  cherish,  by  the 
facility  with  which  they  diffuse  their  power  through  all 
branches  of  the  social  system.  The  faithful  preachers  of 
Christ  are  the  heart  of  the  body  politic.  The  truth  which 
they  send  forth  is  like  the  blood  sustaining  and  nourishing 
the  extremities  of  the  system  which  it  pervades  in  every  vein 
and  artery.  The  face  of  the  country,  of  the  hills  and  the 
meadows,  is  improved  by  a  well  organized  and  devout  church. 
When  Christianity  was  introduced  into  this  continent,  the 
wilderness  began  to  blossom  as  the  rose.  The  prevalence 
of  religion  engenders  a  spirit  of  enterprise,  industry,  and 
thrift ;  and  pleasant  gardens  bloom  where  once  the  thorn 
and  thistle  flourished,  and  happy  children  play  where  once 
the  serpent  crawled  on  the  earth  and  ate  the  dust ;  and  this 
reversal  of  the  curse  denounced  in  our  text  is  a  symbol  of 
the  moral  virtues  which  under  the  ministry  of  the  word 
spring  up  and  flourish,  whose  leaf  shall  be  green,  and  they 
shall  not  cease  from  yielding  fruit.  It  is  because  men  are 
so  cemented  with  each  other,  and  with  lower  and  higher 
orders  of  being,  that  the  missionary  of  the  cross  is  impelled 
to  his  great  work.  When  he  has  been  the  means  of  Christ- 
ianizing a  nation,  the  very  soil  will  become  more  productive ; 
the  very  animals  will  receive  a  benefit  from  his  interposition ; 
the  waves  of  the  sea  will  be  affected  by  his  vicinity,  they 
will  be  ploughed,  as  never  before,  with  keels  that  are  swift 
to  bear  goodly  freights  ;  the  arts  of  civilization  will  be  sub- 
stituted for  brutish  usages  ;  governments  will  be  constructed 
on  the  rational  principles  of  the  Bible  ;  science  will  flourish ; 
poetry  will  Ijloora  ;  there  shall  be  joy  in  heaven  over  many  a 
sinner  that  rcpenteth  ;  tlic  heathen  shall  be  given  to  Christ  for 
an  inheritance,  and  shall  throng  the  courts  of  the  upper  tem- 
ple ;  and  he  who  became  one  with  man  shall  be  glorified  in  that 
pagan  nation,  they  in  him  and  he  in  them,  that  tliey  may  all 
be  made  perfect  in  one,  even  in  that  One  who  has  united  our 
apostate  race  with  the  Creator  of  this  mysteriously  connected 


m  WHICH  MEN  AKE  PLACED.  229 

universe,  and  has  made  the  missionary  of  the  cross  a  bond 
of  union  among  all  the  creatures  of  God. 

5.  Thus  we  perceive  that  the  mutual  influences  which  inter- 
lace our  system  are  the  means  of  our  eternal  blessedness. 
If  there  had  been  ten  righteous  men  found  in  the  cities  of 
the  plain,  God  would  have  spared  those  cities,  in  despite  of 
their  abominations ;  for  he  loves  his  chosen  ones,  he  knows 
how  they  are  interlocked  with  their  relatives  and  friends, 
and  he  spares  the  many  in  his  grace  to  the  few.  He  ever 
manifests  a  touching  reluctance  to  chastise  the  wicked,  lest 
he  also  afflict  the  innocent.  Often,  he  allows  the  tares  to 
grow  until  the  harvest  because  in  plucking  up  the  tares  he 
would  disturb  the  wheat  also.  There  were  cogent  reasons 
why  his  judgments  should  descend  upon  Nineveh  in  one 
unmitigated  storm ;  but  he  could  not  overlook  the  "  much 
cattle"  connected  with  the  guilty  Ninevites:  he  could  not 
give  up  his  pity  for  the  poor  mute  creatures  who  had  been 
faithful  in  their  services  to  man, —  who  had  known  their 
owner  and  acknowledged  their  master's  crib, —  who  had  lived 
a  hard  life,  bowing  down  their  necks  to  take  heavy  burdens, 
and  in  their  unthinking  innocence  stood  ready  to  lick  the 
hand  just  raised  to  shed  their  blood ; —  these  guiltless 
creatures  were  associated  with  man  and  the  great  Spirit 
spared  the  city  for  their  sake,  and  for  '  the  sake  of  the  six 
score  thousand  persons  who  could  not  discern  between  their 
right  hand  and  their  left.'  ^  Often  when  the  cry  of  blood  has 
come  up  to  him  from  the  ground,  he  has  been  lenient  to  a 
murderous  tribe  because  of  their  helpless  infants  ;  and  when 
the  necessities  of  his  administration  have  required  him  to 
bury  the  little  ones  in  the  same  ruin  with  those  who  had 
incurred  the  guilt,  it  has  been  with  yearnings  of  his  more 
than  fatherly  compassion.  And  all  the  instances  in  which 
his  unoffending  creatures  have  interposed  between  his  justice 
and  its  erring  victims  are  symbols—  for  the  earth  is  full  of 

1  Jonah  iv.  11. 


230         THE  SYSTEM  OF  MORAL  INFLUENCES 

symbols,  and  the  history  of  our  race  is  a  history  of  symbols  — 
of  that  illustrious  mediation  whereby  the  Lamb  of  God  took 
away  the  sins  of  the  world.  He  so  connected  himself  with 
all  who  believe  in  him  that  if  punitive  justice  alight  upon 
them,  it  must  cover  him  also.  He  steps  between  the  up- 
lifted sword  and  its  predestined  object,  and  if  it  strike  them  it 
must  first  pierce  him.  Therefore  is  the  sword  returned 
into  its  scabbard,  and  peace  cometh  unto  the  elect  of  God. 

Minute  are  the  analogies  between  the  first  and  the  second 
Adam.  One  of  the  irrational  creatures  was  connected  with 
the  primeval  sin,  and  we  read  that  "  the  Holy  Ghost  descen- 
ded in  a  bodily  form  as  a  dove  upon  him  "  ^  who  broke  the 
charm  of  that  sin,  and  who  was  prefigured  by  the  lamb.  An 
evil  spirit  was  concerned  in  the  rebellion  of  Adam,  and  the 
birth  of  Christ  was  celebrated  by  a  choir  of  angels,  and  one 
of  them  ministered  strength  to  him  at  his  death, —  and 
legions  of  them  will  be  his  convoy  at  his  last  appearing. 
In  the  garden  was  the  forbidden  tree  "  whose  mortal  taste 
brought  death  into  the  world " ;  in  the  garden  was  the 
Redeemer's  conflict,  in  the  garden  did  he  rise  from  the  tomb, 
and  he  reigns  in  the  Paradise  where  '  is  the  tree  of  life,'  and 
'  men  who  have  washed  their  robes  have  the  right  to  come  to 
the  tree  of  life  '  and '  the  leaves  of  the  tree  are  for  the  healing 
of  the  nations.'  A  malediction  rested  on  the  ground  itself 
when  Adam  abused  its  fruits ;  but  the  whole  earth  shall  be 
one  sacred  dwelling-place  of  him  who  was  once  buried  in  its 
recesses  and  who  sanctified  the  very  grave  itself.  In  the  first 
apostasy  woman  fell  into  sorrow  and  degradation  as  well  as 
crime ;  but  Christ  has  exalted  that  sex  one  of  whom  bring- 
ing sweet  spices  came  first  to  his  sepulchre ;  for  he  honored 
the  mother  that  bare  him,  and  the  friend  that  anointed  him 
for  his  Ijurial.  When  Adam  performed  his  typical  act, 
"Dust  thou  art,  and  unto  dust  shalt  thou  return"  was  the 
sentence  ;  "  but  "  as  in  Adam  all  die  so  also  in  Christ  shall 
all  be  made   alive ; "   and  "if  by  one  man's  offence  death 

1  Luke  iii.  22. 


IN  WHICH   MEN  ARE  PLACED.  231 

reigned  by  one ;  much  more  they  which  receive  abundance 
of  grace  and  of  the  gift  of  righteousness  shall  reign  in  life 
by  one,  Jesus  Christ."  The  virtue,  then,  which  comes  from 
our  union  with  Jesus  is  higher  than  the  sin  which  comes 
from  our  union  with  Adam  is  deep.  The  bliss  which  attends 
our  connection  with  the  antitype  is  nobler  than  the  pain 
which  attends  our  connection  with  the  type  is  debasing.  The 
relations  of  the  universe  to  the  seed  of  the  woman  are  more 
numerous,  more  honorable,  than  the  relations  of  the  uni- 
verse to  the  instigator  of  our  transgression  are  complicated 
and  sad. 

Let  us  then  fall  down  in  adoration  before  that  great  Being 
who  begins  the  record  of  his  benevolence  in  the  sorrowful 
words  of  our  text,  that  the  Lord  God  degraded  the  serpent 
and  cursed  the  ground  and  afflicted  the  woman  and  sur- 
rounded the  man  with  thorns  and  thistles ;  but  our  text, 
though  a  bitter  seed,  contains  the  germ  of  a  rich  fruit,  for 
it  predicts  the  coming  of  him  who  in  "  the  fulness  of  the 
time"  was  to  be  "  born  of  a  woman"  ^  and  was  to  perform 
so  wonderful  a  work  that  God  closes  the  record  not  as  he 
begins  it,  but  with  the  description  of  the  upper  paradise  which 
has  '  no  need  of  the  sun,  neither  of  the  moon  to  sliine  in  it, 
for  the  glory  of  God  doth  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  is  the 
light  thereof.  And  the  nations  of  them  which  are  saved 
shall  walk  in  the  light  of  it,  and  the  kings  of  the  earth,  shall 
bring  their  glory  and  lionor  into  it.'^  "  And  there  shall  be 
no  more  curse  [like  that  of  our  text] ,  but  the  throne  of  God 
and  of  the  Lamb  shall  be  in  it ;  and  his  servants  shall  serve 
him."  ^  "  And  God  sliall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes ; 
and  there  [in  that  new  Paradise]  shall  be  no  more  death, 
neither  sorrow,  nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any  more 
pain ;  for  the  former  things  are  passed  away."  *  Tlie  very 
Eden  of  which  our  text  informs  us,  and  out  of  which  our 
race  was  driven,  the  very  place  of  it  is  unknown,  but  there 

J  Gal.  iv  4.  2  Rev.  xxi.  23,  24.  8  Rgy.  xxii.  3.  *  Rev.  xxi.  4. 


232         THE  SYSTEM  OP  MORAL  INFLUENCES 

abidcth  the  new  Eden,  to  which  the  throngs  of  the  church  are 
pressing  onward,  and  to  which  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  are 
pointing  you  forward.  Thither  let  us  all  go  and  unite  our- 
selves with  him  who  is  the  centre  of  the  one  system  which  he 
hinds  together  in  his  omnipresent,  all-comprehending  love. 

NOTE  TO  PAGE  210. 

This  ninth  sermon  proceeds  on  the  supposition  that  the  doctrine  of 
Adam's  apostasy  is  true.  According  to  this  doctrine,  the  original 
constitution  of  the  human  race  was  such  as  to  render  it  certain  that 
if  Adam  sinned  all  the  moral  agents  of  the  race  (with  one  exception) 
would  be  actual  sinners,  and  to  render  it  necessary  that  if  he  sinned 
all  the  members  of  the  race  would  suffer  appropriate  evil.  Some 
orthodox  divines  believe  that  the  doctrine  includes  more  than  this ; 
all  believe  that  it  includes  as  much  as  this.  The  doctrine  is  proved 
by  the  text  Gen.  iii.  13-19,  combined  with  Rom.  v.  12-21,  and  with 
parallel  passages.  Some  of  the  lessons  derived  from  the  doctrine 
are,  that  God  hates  all  sin  with  an  infinite  abhorrence,  and  the  fact 
of  this  infinite  abhorrence  is  expressed  in  his  threatening  of  eternal 
punishment.  A  belief  in  the  entire  trustworthiness  of  the  Bible 
regarding  Adam's  apostasy  prepares  us  to  believe  in  its  entire  trust- 
worthiness regarding  the  penalty  to  be  inflicted  on  the  finally  im- 
penitent. The  consequences  of  Adam's  sin  suggest  the  query  :  Why 
did  not  infinite  benevolence  prevent  him  from  sinning  ?  This  is  a 
crucial  inquiry ;  and  it  suggests  the  truth  that  the  mystery  of  all  sin 
lies  not  in  the  continuance  of  the  sin,  but  in  the  commencement  of 
it.  If  we  can  answer  the  question  :  Why  did  God  allow  iniquity  to 
begin  ?  we  can  answer  the  question  :  Why  will  he  allow  it  to  remain  ? 

This  sermon  may  be  misunderstood  unless  it  be  remembered  that 
the  design  of  it  is  not  to  prove,  nor  even  to  formally  state,  the  doc- 
trine of  Adam's  apostasy,  but  to  explain  a  principle  which  underlies 
the  doctrine.  The  principle  is,  that  we  live  in  such  a  state  of  social 
liability  as  causes  the  diffusion  of  evil  from  one  person  to  another. 
This  principle  must  be  admitted  by  men  who  deny,  as  well  as  by  men 
who  believe,  that  ilie  Bible  is  inspired.  One  great  principle  which 
lies  under  the  doctrine  of  the  apostasy  must  be  recognized  as  true 
whether  the  doctrine  itself  be  accepted  or  not. 


IN  WHICH  MEN  ARE  PLACED.  233 

This  doctrine  is  paralleled  by  another  :  The  atoning  death  of 
Christ  is  the  ground  on  which  salvation  is  provided  for  all  men; 
and  if  any  man  will  exercise  a  holy  faith  in  that  death  he  will  be 
saved.  This  doctrine  is  intimated  in  the  text  of  the  ninth  sermon, 
but  is  distinctly  stated  in  Rom.  v.  12-21,  and  in  the  parallel  passages. 
"  As  through  one  trespass  the  judgment  came  unto  all  men  to  con- 
demnation, even  so  through  one  act  of  righteousness  the  free  gift 
came  unto  all  men  to  justification  of  life.  For,  as  through  the  one 
man's  disobedience  the  many  were  made  sinners,  even  so  through 
the  obedience  of  the  one  shall  the  many  be  made  righteous"  (vs.  18, 
19).  The  one  deed  of  Adam  is  contrasted  with  the  one  deed  of 
Christ.  The  terms  of  the  contrast  explain  each  other.  The  "  dis- 
obedience "  explains  the  "  obedience."  The  obedience  is  further 
explained  by  Phil.  ii.  8,  obedience  "  unto  death  " ;  Rom.  iii.  25,  "  a 
propitiation  through  faith,  by  his  blood " ;  Rom.  v.  9,  "  being  now 
justified  by  his  blood";  Eph.  ii.  13,  "made  nigh  by  the  blood  of 
Christ "  ;  Col.  i.  20  ;  Heb.  xii.  2,  etc.  The  obedience  is  still  further 
explained  by  certain  sacrifices  under  the  old  dispensation,  and  by 
the  Lord's  supper  under  the  new.  This  obedience  of  Christ  in 
laying  down  his  life  for  men  (John  x.  17,  18),  implies,  and  is  insep- 
arable from,  the  perfection  of  his  preceding  obedience.  His  death  is 
a  symbol  of  all  his  antecedent  sufferings,  and  cannot  be  separated 
from  them.  As  his  sacrifice  on  the  cross  was  prefigured  by  the 
ancient  sacrifices,  as  the  first  Adam  was  the  type  of  the  second  Adam 
(Rom.  V.  14),  as  the  atoning  death  was  not  only  predicted  from  the 
beginning,  but  is  to  be  commemorated  until  the  end,  and  as  it  is  the 
brightest  manifestation  of  the  divine  attributes,  so  it  is  the  central 
fact  in  theology.     All  this  is  implied  in  the  ninth  sermon. 

Still,  the  reader  will  misapprehend  the  sermon  unless  he  remember 
that  it  was  designed  not  to  prove,  nor  even  to  formally  state,  the 
doctrine  of  the  atonement,  but  to  explain  a  certain  principle  which 
lies  underneath  the  doctrine.  The  principle  is,  that  good  as  well  as 
evil  is  disseminated  from  one  person  to  another.  All  men  who  ex- 
amine the  constitution  of  the  world  recognize  this  principle.  If 
they  repudiate  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement,  they  acknowledge  one 
of  the  laws  on  which  the  doctrine  is  founded.  The  glory  of  the 
gospel  is  that  the  good  flowing  from  the  act  of  the  second  Adam  is 
greater  than  is  the  evil  flowing  from  the  act  of  the  first  Adam  (Rom. 
V.  15-21 ;  Gen.  iii.  15). 


X. 

THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR/ 


MATTHEW    XI.    6. 


THE  BLIITD  RECEIVE  THEIR  BIGHT,  AND  THE  LAME  WALK ;  THE  LEPERS  ARK  CLEAKSKD, 
AND  THE  DEAF  HEAR;  THE  DEAD  ARE  RAISED  UP,  AND  THE  POOR  HAVE  THB 
GOSPEL   PREACHED  TO   THEM. 

These  words  have  a  use  in  the  department  of  rhetoric. 
They  intimate  that  a  grand  idea  seeks  to  express  itself  in 
rhythmical  language.  They  form  a  noticeable  specimen  of 
the  rhetorical  climax.  They  are  arranged  in  three  couplets, 
—  the  second  being  more  attractive  than  the  first,  and  the 
third  more  attractive  than  the  second.  The  climax  appears 
in  the  meaning  as  well  as  the  sound  of  the  words.  The  first 
couplet  lays  two  miracles  before  us  :  the  blind  receive  their 
sight,  and  the  lame  walk  ;  the  second  couplet  lays  two  mir- 
acles before  us  :  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  and  the  deaf  hear. 
Now  deafness  was  regarded  among  many  Orientals  as  more 
afflictive  and  more  incurable  than  almost  any  other  dis- 
ability ;  and  a  leprous  man  was  more  loathsome  tlian  any 
other  ;  hence  the  two  miracles  in  the  second  couplet  were 
more  striking  than  the  two  in  the  first ;  but  the  most  decisive 
of  all  miracles,  distancing  all  others,  is  reserved  for  the  third 
couplet:  "TAe  dead  are  raised  up,  and  the  poor  have  the 
gospel  preached  to  them." 

This  last  clause  does  not  indeed  bring  a  miracle  into  view, 

1  A  Sermon  preached  at  Oberlin,  Ohio,  on  the  Sabbath  before  the  College 
Commencement  in  18G7  ;  also  at  Newton  Centre,  Mass.,  on  the  day  before  tho 
Anniversary  of  the  Theological  Institution  in  1867. 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOE.        235 

but  it  brings  something  more  momentous.  It  introduces  a 
moral  as  well  as  intellectual  climax.  It  leads  us  to  remark 
that  our  text  has  a  use  in  doctrinal  theology  as  well  as  in 
rhetoric.  It  reminds  us  that  the  internal  evidence  in  favor 
of  the  gospel  is  more  luminous  than  the  external.  The  his- 
tory of  the  text  shows  that  Jesus  valued  the  inward  proof  of 
his  gospel  more  than  the  outward. 

This  is  the  history.  John  the  Baptist  was  of  the  same  age 
with  his  cousin  the  Messiah,  but  was  unlike  him  in  tempera- 
ment. When  Jesus  was  introduced  into  the  Messianic  office, 
John  performed  the  inaugurating  ceremony.  But  soon  after- 
ward the  Baptist  was  imprisoned,  probably  in  the  fortress  of 
Machaerus.  Some  suppose  that  while  imprisoned  in  the  dun- 
geon he  was  in  the  dark  with  regard  to  the  reality  of  Christ's 
Messiahship.  Others  think  that  he  was  disappointed  by  the 
method  in  which  his  cousin  administered  the  new  office.  Can 
it  be  that  the  true  Messiah  will  come  eating  and  drinking  ? 
If  John  himself  were  not  in  the  dark  on  this  question,  some 
of  his  disciples  may  have  been.  At  any  rate  there  was  some- 
thing which  moved  the  Baptist  to  send  two  of  his  disciples 
with  the  query,  'Art  thou  the  real  Messiah,  or  are  we  to  look 
for  a  man  different  from  thee  ? '  Shall  Jesus  condescend 
to  answer  such  a  question  directly  ?  He  gives  an  indirect 
answer  which,  when  analyzed,  may  be  thus  expressed  :  '  Go, 
tell  John  what  things  ye  have  seen  me  do  ;  what  things  ye 
have  heard  me  say.  Ye  have  seen  me  perform  five  kinds 
of  miracles,  —  the  blind  receive  their  sight ;  the  lame  walk  ; 
the  lepers  are  cleansed  ;  the  deaf  hear  ;  the  dead  are  raised 
up.^  Here  you  have  the  outward  proof  of  my  Messiahship. 
You  have  heard  one  thing  greater  than  these  miracles,  —  I 
name  it  after  them ;  I  place  it  higher  than  I  place  the  raising 
of  the  dead  ;  I  put  it  on  the  top  of  the  ascending  series  ;  it  is 
the  inward,  the  moral  argument  in  my  favor.     I  will  divide 

1  The  fact  that  these  cases  were  predicted  by  the  prophets  is  to  be  included  in 
their  miraculous  character.  See  Isa.  xxix.  18,  19;  xxxv.  5,  6  ;  Ixi.  1,  2,  et  al. 
The  divine  mission  of  Christ  is  proved  by  his  fulfilling  the  prophecies  respecting 
him. 


236        THE  GOSPEL  PEEACHED  TO  THE  POOR. 

it  into  three  branches ;  first,  a  great  system  of  doctrines  is 
made  known  ;  secondly,  it  is  made  known  in  an  excellent 
way ;  thirdly,  it  is  made  known  to  a  peculiar  class  of  men. 
The  matter  of  my  instruction,  that  is  the  first  inward  sign ; 
the  manner  of  my  instruction,  that  is  the  second  inward  sign ; 
the  standing  of  the  men  who  receive  my  instruction,  that  is 
the  third  inward  sign  of  my  embassy.  Go,  explain  to  John 
these  three  signs  ;  and  then  let  him  draw  his  own  inference 
whether  I  am  he  that  should  come,  or  whether  a  different 
man  from  me  must  be  looked  for.' 

Following  this  threefold  division,  the  aim  of  the  present 
discourse  is  to  consider,  first.  What  is  made  known  by  the 
Messiah  through  his  ministers  ;  secondly,  How  it  is  made 
known,  and  thirdly,  To  whom  it  is  made  known. 

I.  What  is  made  known  ?  The  general  answer  is,  The 
gospel.  But  what  is  the  gospel  ?  What  are  its  character- 
istics making  it  a  sign  that  Christ  is  the  real  Messiah  ?  The 
gospel  is  the  truth  unmingled.  Other  systems  contain  some 
truth  combined  with  some  error ;  but  this  system  is  the  truth 
without  any  error.  It  is  not  only  pure,  it  is  also  novel,  truth ; 
it  is  a  series  of  news,  good  news,  glad  news  ;  and  it  thus 
quickens  the  pulse  of  men  wearied  with  the  monotony  of 
mere  nature.  Science  teaches  the  immortality  of  the  soul ; 
but  the  gospel  brings  life  and  immortality  to  light.  Nature 
teaches  that  the  evil-doer  will  be  punished  ;  the  gospel  teaches 
that  if  he  repent  he  shall  be  saved.  It  is  a  system  of  truth 
not  only  unmingled  and  original,  but  also  comprehensive. 
It  reveals  the  paternal  character  of  God,  and  also  the  mean- 
ness of  sin  ;  for  this,  like  invisible  ink  by  the  fire,  is  brought 
out  by  the  light  of  the  cross.  The  cross  makes  darkness 
visible.  The  gospel  tells  us  of  salvation,  and  thus  it  implies 
punishment,  from  which  the  believer  may  be  saved.  The 
rainbow  implies  the  dark  cloud  which  it  spans.  The  gospel 
reveals  the  atonement  of  Christ,  and  this  comprehends  tho 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR.        237 

justice  of  God  as  well  as  his  mercy,  the  threatenings  of  the 
law  as  well  as  the  promises  of  grace.  All  that  philosophy 
teaches  of  the  majesty  of  the  Father,  all  that  inspiration 
teaches  of  the  beauties  in  the  character  of  the  Son,  all  that 
experience  and  the  Bible  teach  of  the  purifying  influence  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  are  involved  in  the  atoning  work  of  Christ. 
The  gospel  is  not  only  unmingled  and  novel  and  comprehen- 
sive truth,  it  is  also  truth  instinct  with  power.  It  is  power- 
ful because  it  is  pure,  because  it  is  new  and  startling,  because 
it  is  comprehensive  ;  and  still  further,  because  it  is  the  instru- 
ment which  the  Holy  Spirit  employs  in  the  renovation  of  the 
soul.  It  is  the  hammer  which  he  uses  in  breaking  the  rock. 
It  [<'  the  fire  which  he  applies  in  melting  the  ice.  It  is  the 
sword  which  he  wields  in  piercing  the  otherwise  impenetra- 
ble heart.  It  is  the  glorious  gospel  of  the  blessed  God.  It 
is  the  wisdom  of  God  and  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation. 

'  Art  thou  he  that  should  come,  then,  or  do  we  look  for 
another  ? '  —  'Go  and  tell  John  that  you  have  heard  this  pro- 
found system  of  truth  which  I  name  the  gospel ;  and  let  him 
infer  for  himself  that  the  very  nature  of  the  message  is  an 
internal  argument  for  the  divine  authority  of  the  messenger.' 

II.  "  What  is  made  known  ? "  —  that  was  the  first  question. 
The  gospel,  —  that  is  the  answer.  We  come  then  to  our 
second  question :  How  is  the  gospel  made  known  ?  The 
answer  is,  It  is  preached. 

Aristotle  has  moved  the  world  by  writing  treatises  on 
science.  He  made  black  marks  upon  white  parchment,  and 
these  noiseless  letters  affected  the  nerves  of  the  eye,  sug- 
gested ethereal  ideas  to  the  reader,  and  stirred  the  intellect 
of  the  race  to  its  depths.  It  is  a  mysterious  chain  that  con- 
nects the  most  lofty  generalizations  of  the  mind  with  these 
lines  of  ink  on  the  papyrus.  Those  little  marks  and  dots, 
made  more  than  two  thousand  years  ago  in  Athens,  were  to 
mould  the  character  of  schoolmen  then  unborn,  to  shape  the 
thinking  of  universities  on  islands  and  continents  then  un- 


238        THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR. 

known.  Lord  Bacon  has  compared  written  or  printed  words, 
carrying  down  knowledge  from  century  to  century,  with  ships 
at  sea,  carrying  merchandise  from  land  to  land.  This  mar- 
vellous influence  of  written  words  is  included  in  the  preach- 
ing of  the  gospel.  The  good  tidings  are  borne  "  through  the 
vast  seas  of  time  "  by  means  of  scripture,  —  the  Scripture  ; 
of  books,  the  Book,  the  Bible. 

But  this  is  not  the  more  distinctive  method  in  which  the 
gospel  is  proclaimed.  The  more  peculiar  idea  of  preaching 
the  glad  truth  is  that  of  heralding  it  by  the  living  voice. 
"When  orally  announced,  the  truth  is  addressed  to  the  organ 
of  vision ;  the  hearer  sees  the  truth  not  written  on  paper, 
but  imprinted  on  the  lips  of  the  speaker,  beaming  forth  from 
his  eye,  glowing  on  his  cheek,  held  open  on  the  palm  of  his 
hand,  pointed  at  by  the  indicative  finger,  pictured  on  the 
clenched  fist,  shining  on  the  extended  arm,  represented  on 
the  shoulder,  on  the  elbow,  on  the  wrist,  made  visible  in  the 
attitude  of  the  head,  the  chest,  the  feet,  the  whole  body. 
Mysteriously  is  one  sentiment  expressed  by  a  statue  of  mar- 
ble ;  but  here  it  is  the  system  of  living  truths  emblazoned  on 
the  living  statue,  the  great  material  work  of  the  infinite 
Sculptor.     Faith  comes  by  seeing. 

But  when  the  gospel  is  preached  in  this  distinctive  method 
of  oral  address,  it  appeals  not  to  the  eye  merely,  but  to  another 
sense  which  is  an  interpreter  for  the  eye,  and  superadds  a 
power  of  its  own.  Faith  cometh  by  hearing.  The  gestures 
of  the  preacher  are  what  the  deaf  man  hears.  The  tones  of 
the  preacher  are  what  the  blind  man  sees.  There  are  modu- 
lations of  the  voice  that  suggest  ideas  not  made  visible  in 
any  written  alphabet.  "  My  eyes  always  moisten,"  says  one, 
"when  I  see  the  word  tear''  What  a  stream  of  melting 
thoughts  flows  through  the  mind  at  the  sight  of  that  wonder- 
ful monosyllable.  Wlien  you  meet  a  stranger  in  the  lane  of 
a  city,  and  behold  a  tear  glistening  in  his  eye,  what  a  long 
history  is  recited  to  you  in  an  instant !  That  tear  is  a 
volume,  a  little  globe  of  truth.     When  Jesus  saw  the  men 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR.        239 

and  "Women  weeping  around  the  tomb,  Jesus  wept.  And 
when  John  Howe  stood  in  the  pulpit,  his  eye  reddened,  his 
check  furrowed  by  these  warm  symbols  of  grief,  and  when 
with  a  tremulous  voice  he  spoke  of  the  Redeemer's  tears  over 
lost  souls,  men  caught  a  new  meaning  in  that  sweet  word, 
Redeemer;  felt  a  new  awe  at  the  hearing  of  that  solemn 
word,  souls  ;  gained  a  new  impression  of  that  doleful  word, 
lost ;  and  their  own  eyes  were  suffused  at  the  thought  of 
tears  springing  from  the  Redeemer  as  he  wept  on  the  Mount 
of  Olives  over  the  city  compact  together  of  lost  souls.  I 
have  heard  of  a  broken-hearted  disciple  who  came  with  a 
trembling  step  into  the  house  of  prayer  and  listened  to  the 
words  of  our  hymn  : 

"  Yet  save  a  trembling  sinner,  Lord  ! 
Whose  hope,  still  hovering  round  thy  word. 
Would  light  on  some  sweet  promise  there." 

This  beautiful  image,  how  often  had  he  seen  it  before,  as  an 
image  ;  but  now,  in  the  sanctuary,  as  for  the  first  time,  he 
beholds  the  tree  living,  blooming,  fruit-bearing ;  and  his  hope, 
like  a  songster  hovering  over  and  around  the  green  leaves,  at 
length  alights  on  a  healing  bough,  and  begins  to  sing  of  the 
rest  that  remaineth  for  the  people  of  God. 

There  are  chords  of  the  heart  responsive  to  every  note  of 
the  organ,  and  a  true  preacher  is  like  one  who  plays  skil- 
fully on  an  instrument,  and  touches  forcibly  or  gently  the 
one  key  which  calls  forth  the  mysterious  sound  stirring  the 
sympathies  of  men  who  know  not  why  nor  how  they  are 
moved.  The  sympathies  of  men,  —  they  are  touched  myste- 
riously like  the  strings  of  an  ^olian  harp  by  one  breath  of 
air.  It  moves  among  the  trembling  chords,  and  awakens 
such  melodies  as  would  have  slumbered  for  the  want  of  that 
one  breath  of  air.  How  subtile,  how  evanescent,  is  that  one 
breath  of  air ;  but  when  Whiteficld  employed  it  in  uttering 
the  interjection  0 !  his  auditors  hung  their  heads  and  sobbed 
aloud.  They  would  have  read  that  solitary  letter  with  an 
undimmed  eye,  but  when  he  pronounced  it,  the  letter  became 


240        THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR. 

a  circle  of  rounded  thought,  all  alive  with  secret  suggestions, 
compressing  into  itself  inexplicable  symbols  of  emotion,  wak- 
ing up  the  nameless  and  dehcate  sympathies  which,  but  for 
that  one  breath,  had  slept,  never  perhaps  to  be  roused.  The 
traveller  on  some  of  the  Alps  in  winter  is  forbidden  to  utter 
a  word,  lest  he  should  cause  undulations  of  the  atmosphere 
that  would  precipitate  the  rocks  already  loosened  so  as  to  be 
just  ready  for  their  fall ;  and  those  rocks  when  once  started 
in  their  downward  course  by  that  one  word,  take  with  them 
other  rocks  and  trees,  and  form  an  avalanche,  augmenting  as 
it  rushes  down,  and  desolating  the  fields  and  villages  of  the 
plain.  The  one  word  "  Fire,"  pronounced  in  a  certain  tone, 
agitates  a  city  at  dead  of  night.  The  one  call  "  To  arms  " 
rouses  the  whole  battalion  of  soldiers  sleeping  in  their 
guarded  tents.  The  gospel  has  many  a  monosyllable  which 
when  uttered  from  the  pulpit,  —  no  sound  of  cannon  has  so 
quickened  the  soul  to  activity.  One  word,  —  when  Mr.  Sum- 
merfield  repeated  the  text,  "  And  the  Spirit  and  the  bride 
say.  Come.  And  let  him  that  heareth  say,  Come.  And  let 
him  that  is  athirst  come.  And  whosoever  will,  let  him  take 
the  water  of  life  freely"  ;  that  word  come,  was  so  modulated 
as  to  be  resonant  with  the  love  of  the  Redeemer ;  and  the 
accompanying  smile  of  the  lip  was  a  picture  of  the  grace  of 
heaven  ;  and  the  fixed  earnestness  of  the  eye  was  itself  a 
divine  entreaty,  and  the  hearers  felt  that  the  heavens  were 
opened  on  a  sudden,  and  the  voice  of  God  himself  was  pro- 
claiming for  the  first  time  :  ' Whosoever  will,  let  him  come* 
"  I  never  knew  the  meaning  of  the  Lord's  prayer,  until  I 
heard  it  recited  by  an  elocutionist  in  London,"  —  so  said 
an  English  Bishop  ;  and  a  New  England  pastor  remarked, 
"  I  never  knew  the  meaning  of  the  phrase,  '  Thy  kingdom 
come,'  until  I  heard  it  uttered  at  the  May  Anniversaries  in 
Boston."  1 

1  When  Dr.  Spencer  II.  Cone  was  a  member  of  Princeton  College,  and  about 
fourteen  years  of  age,  his  first  declamation  was  heard  by  the  President,  who 
said  :  "  Young  man,  your  voice  will  bo  your  fortune."  When  about  twenty 
years  old  he  became  an  actor  in  the  theatre,  and  when  about  thirty  he  became  a 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR.         241 

But  in  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  there  is  something 
more  than  an  appeal  to  the  eye  and  to  the  ear,  there  is  also 
an  appeal  to  the  sympathies  of  those  who  sit  together  seeing 
and  hearing.  One  man  has  an  emotion  because  he  suspects 
that  another  has  it.  He  has  a  still  deeper  emotion  when 
he  suspects  that  many  others  have  it ;  but  when  he  knows 
that  they  have  it,  when  he  sees  that  they  have  it,  when  he 
feels  that  they  have  it,  he  has  a  still  intenser  fellow-feeling 
with  them.  He  is  affected  because  they  are  affected.  They 
sit  close  to  him,  and  cannot  stir  without  moving  him. 
You  may  relate  an  incident  to  one  individual  ;  the  sound 
of  your  voice  touches  the  strings  of  his  heart.  Let  a  few 
more  individuals  join  themselves  to  that  one,  and  the 
same  rehearsal  will  be  doubly  exciting.  Relate  the  incident 
to  a  crowd,  especially  when,  in  the  words  of  Simon  Peter, 
"  the  multitude  throng  thee  and  press  thee,"  and  the  same 
recital  will  have  more  than  a  reduplicated  influence.  This 
influence  is  like  that  avalanche  just  described  which  gathers 
volume  as  it  falls.  One  hearer  looks  at  those  who  sit  near 
him,  and  his  eyes  flash  forth  a  sentiment  which  is  at  once 
darted  back,  and  gains  a  new  brightness  by  being  reflected. 
An  impressive  word  is  uttered ;  there  is  a  rustling  movement 
in  one  pew  which  is  heard  in  another  pew,  attracts  new 
attention  to  that  impressive  word,  and  heightens,  while  it 

preacher  of  the  gospel.  Both  on  the  stage  and  in  the  pulpit  his  voice  was  a 
treasure  to  him.  As  a  preacher  he  won  attention  by  his  "  utterance,  even,  dis- 
tinct, firm,  and  strong,  and  yet  with  sweetly  varied  modulation,  and  with  ap])ro- 
priate  and  expressive  emphasis."  The  matter  of  his  discourses  was  uncommonly 
excellent,  the  manner  of  delivering  them  was  studiously  appropriate.  Not  more 
than  a  year  after  he  began  to  preach  he  was  heard  by  Rev.  Dr.  Milnor  who 
remarked  :  "  I  have  often  heard  him  before,  from  a  box-seat,  a  dollar  each  time  ; 
but  this  was  worth  more  than  they  all,  yet  without  money  and  without  price." 
When  a  friend  of  Dr.  Cone,  Dr.  Stephen  Gano,  pastor  of  the  First  Baptist 
Church  in  Providence,  Rhode  Island,  was  too  far  advanced  in  life  to  utter  any 
striking  thoughts  in  the  pulpit,  I  often  heard  him  preach ;  and  although  I  can- 
not remember  a  single  idea  advanced  by  him,  I  well  remember  the  sweet  and 
majestic  tones  of  his  voice,  and  after  the  lapse  of  sixty  years  they  recall  the  dis- 
tinctive doctrines  of  the  gospel.  The  echoes  of  his  voice  seem  inappropriate  to 
any  other  thoughts  than  those  of  divine  justice  and  grace. 


242         THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR. 

transmits,  the  influence  of  it.  A  few  auditors  sit  spell-bound 
in  the  hearing  of  a  phrase  ;  their  very  stillness  is  listened  to 
in  the  pews  around  them  ;  in  one  minute  the  voice  of  this 
stillness  fills  the  house,  and  adds  intensity  to  the  first  effect 
of  the  utterance.  There  is  I  know  not  what  to  call  it,  if  it 
be  not  a  kind  of  magnetism  in  the  crowd,  and  one  individual 
conducts  to  his  neighbor  the  influence  which  is  quickened 
into  a  new  force  as  it  passes  into  a  new  sphere. 

'If  the  lives  of  the  multitude  here  present  were  sifted, 
should  we  find  among  them  ten  righteous  men  ?  Should  we 
find  a  single  righteous  man  ? '  ^  When  Massillon  uttered  the 
substance  of  these  words,  Voltaire  says  that  "the  whole 
assemljly  started  up  from  their  seats,  and  interrupted  the 
preacher  l^y  murmurs  of  surprise."  Those  words  were  like 
a  spark  of  fire  falling  into  a  magazine  of  powder ;  and  every 
grain  added  its  own  heat  to  the  grains  which  were  ignited  by 
each  other  as  well  as  by  the  fire  that  fell  first  among  them. 
When  the  auditors  of  Massillon  sprang  from  their  seats  and 
bowed  as  he  uttered  the  words,  "  God  only  is  great,"  they 
were  not  thus  inspired  by  that  phrase  alone,  but  by  their 
union  with  each  other,  by  the  day,  the  hour,  the  scene.  The 
fountains  of  feeling  were  just  ready  to  overflow  ;  there  was 
needed  only  one  impulse  of  one  word,  and  they  would  over- 

1  This  sentence  of  Massillon  is  given  in  various  forms  by  the  various  reporters 
of  it,  and  the  various  editions  of  his  works.  The  following  is  Voltaire's  report 
of  the  sentence :  "  I  imagine  this  present  hour  to  be  the  last  for  us  all ;  that  the 
heavens  are  going  to  open  over  our  heads,  that  time  is  past,  and  that  eternity 
begins,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  going  to  a])pear  to  judge  us  according  to  our  works, 
and  that  we  are  all  here  to  await  from  him  the  sentence  of  life  or  death  eternal. 
I  ask  you,  struck  with  terror  like  you,  not  separating  my  lot  from  yours,  and 
putting  myself  in  the  same  position  in  which  we  are  all  to  appear  one  day  before 
God  our  Judge,  —  if  Jesus  Christ,  I  say,  should  appear  at  this  moment,  to  make 
the  awful  separation  of  the  righteous  and  the  sinners,  think  you  that  the  greater 
number  would  be  saved  1  Think  you  that  the  number  of  the  righteous  would 
be  at  least  equal  to  that  of  the  sinners  ?  Think  you  that  if  he  should  now  make 
an  examination  of  the  works  of  the  great  number  that  are  in  this  church,  he 
would  find  only  righteous  persons  among  us  1  Would  he  find  a  single  one?  " 
—  Instead  of  the  (juestion  :  "Think  you  that  the  greater  number  would  be 
saved  ?  "  some  editions  have  the  words  :  "  Think  you  that  the  greater  number 
would  pass  to  his  right  hand  ?  " 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR.        243 

flow  each  into  every  other,  —  and  the  stream  widens  as  it 
moves  on.  Jeremy  Taylor's  illustration  applies  here  :  When 
a  ship  is  alone  riding  out  a  storm  at  sea,  it  is  agitated  by  a 
wave  ;  but  when  a  whole  fleet  of  ships  are  together  in  the 
storm,  every  one  of  them  is  shaken  by  the  same  wave,  and 
also  by  the  other  ships  that  dash  against  it. 

The  author  of  a  celebrated  volume  of  sermons  recom- 
mends in  his  preface  that  the  sermons  be  recited  aloud  in 
the  family,  and  adds  :  "  As  a  general  rule,  read  aloud  when 
alone.)  remembering  that  impressions  made  at  once  on  the  eye 
and  ear  reach  the  heart  with  double  force."  But  if  one  man 
when  he  reads  alone  the  sermon  of  another  man  can  aug- 
ment the  power  of  it  by  reading  it  aloud,  how  much  more 
can  he  augment  the  power  of  his  own  sermon,  which  ought 
to  affect  him  more  than  that  of  another  man,  when  he  not 
merely  reads  it  aloud,  but  speaks  it,  not  alone,  not  in  the 
family  circle,  but  amid  all  the  associations  of  the  Sabbath 
day,  and  all  the  reminiscences  of  the  house  of  God,  and  all 
the  sympathies  of  men,  women,  and  children  ;  the  old  mov- 
ing the  young,  as  the  loadstone  moves  the  needle  ;  the  young 
exciting  the  old,  as  one  pole  of  the  magnet  communicates 
with  the  other  ;  and  a  thousand  invisible  influences  all  flow- 
ing into  the  influence  of  the  speaker  who,  like  the  Psalmist, 
can  say :  "I  have  not  concealed  thy  truth  from  the  great 
congregation  ;  I  have  preached  righteousness  in  the  great 
congregation." 

Many  a  sermon  has  been  spoiled  by  being  printed  ;  the 
thrilling  word  seems  to  have  been  left  out ;  the  melting  sen- 
tence seems  to  have  been  corrected  into  coldness  and  stiffness ; 
and  all  this  is  true  even  when  the  phrases  remain  precisely 
as  they  were  uttered ;  for  their  life  was  in  the  tremulous 
tones  that  accompanied  them;  and  that  life  is  hushed.  The 
soul  of  the  words  was  in  those  inflections  which,  like  the 
present  moment,  were  gone  as  soon  as  they  first  came.  The 
Lord  was  in  the  still  small  voice.  You  can  never  publish  the 
beaming  of  the  eye.     You  can  never  print  the  sudden  flush 


244        THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR. 

of  the  face.  It  is  the  suddenness  of  it  that  starts  the  sympa- 
thies of  the  beholders.  The  speaker  does  not  know  why,  the 
hearer  does  not  know  how  ;  but  there  is  the  fact :  a  congre- 
gation sitting  together  on  the  Lord's  day,  in  the  Lord's  house, 
have  emotions  and  express  emotions  which  are  like  the 
accompaniment  of  a  band  of  music  to  the  voice  of  the  solo 
singer ;  you  do  not  catch  the  harmony  of  the  tune  unless 
in  the  unison  of  all  its  parts  made  distinct  and  complete  by 
instruments,  each  one  giving  its  own  certain  sound.^ 

Men  who  claim  to  be  more  philosophical  than  their  pastors 
excuse  themselves  from  attending  the  sanctuary  by  the  plea  : 
We  will  remain  at  home,  and  read  better  sermons  than  we 
can  hear.  But  these  men  lose  the  nameless  evanescent  influ- 
ences which  may  sometimes  make  a  poor  sermon  as  heard 
better  than  a  good  one  as  read.  They  lose  the  indefinable, 
varying  appliances  of  the  voice  uttering  the  right  word  at 
the  right  season,  in  the  right  way.  A  sentiment  uttered  at 
the  appropriate  moment  has  a  force  which  it  can  have  at  no 
other  moment.  A  man  does  not  see,  in  the  full  sense  of  see- 
ing, unless  he  uses  other  organs  besides  the  eye.  "When  he 
looks  at  a  fabric,  and  has  a  doubt  with  regard  to  its  visible 
texture,  he  touches  it,  saying,  "  Let  me  see."  When  he  looks 
at  a  species  of  fruit,  and  has  a  doubt  with  regard  to  its  quality 
as  exhibited  to  the  eye,  he  tastes  it,  saying,  "  Let  me  see." 
In  like  manner,  when  we  doubt  whether  a  man  be  a  former 
associate  of  ours  we  listen  for  his  voice,  and  hearing  it,  we 
exclaim,  "  Yes,  we  see ;  he  is  our  old  friend."  Out  of  the 
sanctuary  I  have  heard  of  God  with  the  hearing  of  the  ear  ; 
but  in  the  sanctuary,  when  the  Holy  Ghost  is  present,  I  hear 

1  The  history  of  secular  eloquence  abounds  with  instances  in  which  words 
have  lost  their  power  when  they  ceased  to  be  intertwined  with  the  sympathies 
of  an  audience.  Valerius  Maximus  says  of  the  Athenian  orator:  "A  great 
part  of  Demosthenes  is  wanting:,  for  it  must  be  heard,  not  read."  Quintilian 
says  of  Hortensius  :  "  There  was  something  in  him  which  strangely  pleased  when 
he  spoke  which  those  who  perused  his  orations  could  not  find."  The  younger 
Pitt  remarked  that  he  could  never  conjecture  from  reading  his  father's  speeches 
where  their  eloquence  lay  hidden. 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR.        245 

of  him  "with  more  than  the  hearing  of  the  ear ;  my  whole 
soul  is  an  eye,  and  mine  eye  seeth  him ;  wherefore  I  abhor 
myself  and  repent  in  dust  and  ashes. 

At  this  stage,  our  argument  is  the  following  :  Plato,  Aris- 
totle, and  other  great  masters  of  the  Academy  and  Lyceum 
did  not  recommend  the  oral  proclamation  of  truth  as  the 
prominent  method  of  enforcing  the  truth ;  the  Galilean  who 
had  never  been  taught  in  the  Academy  and  Lyceum  did  recom- 
mend this  method  as  the  prime  one.  He  could  not  have 
devised  such  a  mode  of  proclaiming  such  truth  unless  he  had 
been  a  messenger  from  God.  But  we  may  go  beyond  this 
stage,  and  say  ;  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  is  a  proof  of  the 
very  existence  of  God.  In  his  discourse  on  Natural  Theology, 
Lord  Brougham  adduces  the  power  of  extemporaneous  elo- 
quence as  an  argument  for  theism.  "  A  practised  orator," 
he  says,  "  will  declaim  in  measured  and  in  various  periods, 
will  weave  his  discourse  into  one  texture,  form  parenthesis 
witliin  parenthesis,  excite  the  passions,  or  move  to  laughter, 
take  a  turn  in  his  discourse  from  an  accidental  interruption 
—  making  it  the  topic  of  his  rhetoric  for  live  minutes  to  come, 
and  pursuing  in  like  manner  the  new  illustrations  to  which 
it  gives  rise,  mould  his  diction  with  a  view  to  attain  or  to 
shun  an  epigrammatic  point  or  an  alliteration  or  a  discord, 
and  all  this  with  so  much  assured  reliance  on  his  own  powers, 
and  with  such  perfect  ease  to  himself,  that  he  shall  even  plan 
the  next  sentence  while  he  is  pronouncing  off-hand  the  one 
he  is  engaged  with,  adapting  each  to  the  other,  and  shall 
look  forward  to  the  topic  which  is  to  follow,  and  fit  in  the 
close  of  the  one  he  is  handling  to  be  its  introducer."  ^  Such 
an  extemporaneous  power,  he  reasons,  must  be  the  contri- 
vance of  a  Deity.  Wlien,  now,  we  superadd  the  fact,  that  a 
preacher  by  a  mere  act  of  will  moves  a  few  muscles  of  his 
vocal  organs  and  thus  causes  undulations  of  the  air  reaching 
the  auditory  nerves  of  his  congregation,  and  this  slight  effect 

1  Brougham's  Discourse  of  Natural  Theology  (pp.  53,54),  prefixed  to  Paler's 
Natural  Theology.     London  cd.,  Charles  GriflBn  and  Company. 


246        THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR. 

on  these  minute  fibres  suggests  to  the  minds  of  the  congrega- 
tion such  thoughts  as  an  archangel  desires  to  look  into,  and 
rouses  such  emotions  as  are  kindred  with  those  of  God  him- 
seK;  that  before  he  has  closed  one  sentence  three  or  five 
hundred  hearers  anticipate  the  meaning  of  it,  and  are  moved 
by  it  as  by  an  electric  impulse ;  that  one  wave  of  tlie 
preacher's  hand  so  affects  the  retina  of  the  hearer's  eye  as  to 
awaken  an  ecstasy  in  three  or  five  hundred  men  ;  they  liav- 
ing  the  same  tliought  with  him  at  the  same  time  ;  they  moved 
by  the  same  feeling  with  him  at  the  same  time  ;  that  the 
almost  invisible  nerves  of  his  forehead  will  make  a  slight 
movement  rousing  his  auditors  to  loftier  ideas  than  he  may 
have  ever  grasped,  and  inflaming  them  with  more  ardent 
emotions  than  he  himself  may  have  ever  felt ;  so  that  his 
thoughts  before  they  are  his  own  are  suggested  to  his  hearers ; 
and  greater  thoughts  than  ever  were  his  own  are  yet  intima- 
ted in  his  countenance  as  it  struggles  with  pent-up  emotion 
(for  a  sermon  of  John  Newton  may  have  suggested  to  William 
Cowper  many  an  ethereal  sentiment  that  never  entered  the 
mind  or  heart  of  that  plain  minister  speaking  to  that  exquisite 
poet)  ;  when  we  superadd  the  wondrous  fact  that  the  vibra- 
tions of  the  atmosphere  caused  by  the  quivering  larynx  of 
the  preacher,  and  that  the  rays  of  light  reflected  from  his 
beaming  countenance  are  often  attended  by  the  regeneration 
of  those  who  hear  and  see  him,  and  while  he  is  yet  speaking 
they  are  created  anew  for  God  and  for  heaven,  —  the  Holy 
Ghost  himself  dwelling  in  his  truth;  we  stand  convinced. 
This  is  no  human  work ;  this  is  of  the  Lord's  doing  and  it  is 
marvellous  in  our  eyes.  It  is  God  who  hath  devised  the 
complex  apparatus  of  speech.  It  is  God  who  hath  adjusted 
all  tlie  springs  of  the  soul  to  all  the  wheels  of  the  body.  The 
spirit  of  the  Lord  is  in  those  wheels.  The  truth  of  God  !  "  I 
am  the  truth,"  says  God  incarnate. 

'  Art  thou  he  that  should  come,  then,  or  do  we  look  for 
another  ?  '  That  is  the  question.  '  Go  and  tell  John,'  is  the 
answer, '  that  many  a  man  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  twice 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR.        247 

dead,  comes  forth  from  his  spiritual  grave  at  the  sound  of 
the  preacher's  voice  ;  and  let  John  infer  for  himself  that  the 
very  plan  of  orally  preaching  the  gospel  is  a  sign  that  God 
has  interposed  in  behalf  of  the  gospel.' 

III.  Our  first  question  was  :  What  is  proclaimed  ?  Our 
answer :  The  gospel.  Our  second  question  was  :  How  is  the 
gospel  proclaimed  ?  Our  answer :  It  is  proclaimed  distinc- 
tively by  the  living  voice.  Our  third  question  is  :  To  whom 
is  the  gospel  preached  ?  Our  answer :  To  the  poor.  What 
are  the  reasons  for  preaching  the  gospel  to  the  poor  ? 

1.  One  reason  is  this :  The  controlling  force  of  the  com- 
munity will  come  sooner  or  later  from  those  who  are  now 
poor,  and  if  this  force  move  upward  the  whole  commu- 
nity will  be  moved  upward.  A  few  rich  men  may  wield  a 
greater  power  than  the  same  number  of  poor  men,  but  the 
poor  are  so  much  more  numerous  than  the  rich,  and  have 
withal  so  much  more  of  that  hardiness  which  comes  from 
hardness,  that  in  the  main,  and  in  the  long  sweep  of  time, 
the  guiding  influence  of  the  world  moves  upward  from  the 
humble  class  to  the  high  more  than  downward  from  the 
high  to  the  humble.  Men  lay  the  axe  at  the  root  of  a  tree, 
when  they  would  fell  it,  and  do  not  aim  their  first  blow  at  its 
topmost  boughs ;  and  when  they  would  quicken  its  growth, 
they  do  not  manipulate  its  branches  before  they  enrich  the 
soil  from  which  it  springs.  One  scientific  method  of  ventila- 
ting, warming,  and  cooling  a  house  illustrates  the  scientific 
method  of  purifying  and  regulating  a  community.  The  fresh 
atmosphere  is  introduced  not  from  the  roof,  nor  from  the 
windows,  but  from  the  basement ;  it  is  there  warmed  in  the 
winter  by  steam,  and  cooled  in  the  summer  by  ice ;  through 
a  thousand  apertures  in  the  floors  it  is  then  admitted  into 
the  rooms  above  ;  there  it  does  not  remain  stagnant  but  con- 
tinues to  rise,  giving  health  to  the  lungs  and  purity  to  the 
voices  of  those  who  inhale  it ;  the  air  of  the  attic  is  rarefied 
by  liot  pipes  so  as  to  accelerate  the  ascent  of  the  currents 


248        TUE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR. 

from  the  basement  chambers  ;  and  then  out  of  the  attic  these 
currents  are  discharged  to  mingle  again  with  the  atmosphere 
of  the  skies. 

So  in  the  main  do  the  purifying  inspirations  of  the  spiritual 
heavens  pass  through  the  hearts  of  the  lower  circles,  and 
rise,  bringing  with  them  temperance  and  frugality  and  indus- 
try and  fortitude  into  the  higher  circles.  As  the  preacher's 
voice  ascends  so  that  he  can  be  heard  best  in  the  gallery,  in 
a  like  way  his  influence  goes  upward  through  the  cottage  into 
the  palace. 

The  statistics  of  our  cities  prove  that  the  great  merchants 
of  the  present  day  are  not,  in  the  main,  sons  of  affluent 
parents,  and  the  men  who  a  half-century  ago  were  the  rich 
traders  of  those  cities  have  left  descendants  who  are  not 
affluent  now.  Civilians  who  are  at  present  on  the  pinnacle 
of  their  profession  rose  up  from  families  which  a  half-century 
ago  were  in  the  vale  of  obscurity ;  and  civilians  who  a  half 
century  ago  were  in  the  ascendant  have  left  families  who  are 
now  in  the  walks  of  the  lowly.  The  habit  of  plain  living  and 
persistent  labor  tends  to  raise  the  poor  man  above  his  struggle 
for  the  comforts  of  life,  and  to  give  him  the  means  of  a  wider 
influence  than  he  could  exert  while  absorbed  in  that  struggle. 
According  to  a  tendency  of  human  nature  his  descendants  of 
the  first  or  second  generation  may  preserve  his  frugal  and 
laborious  habit,  but  those  of  a  succeeding  generation  relax 
it,  and  by  their  luxurious  life  lose  their  ancestral  force  of 
character,  and  at  leiigth  fall  into  that  condition  from  which 
their  ancestor  rose,  and  from  which  perhaps  their  children's 
children  will  begin  to  rise  and  resume  their  ancestral  influ- 
ence. This  is  the  tendency.  It  is  often  counteracted ;  but 
notwithstanding  all  the  exceptions  the  general  fact  is  that 
society  rolls  around  like  a  wheel,  and  the  shafts  that  are 
now  down  will  be  soon  up,  and  it  is  the  lower  shaft  that 
strikes  upon  the  water  and  makes  the  steam-ship  move  at  its 
bidding. 

William  Gifford  the  shoemaker  and  William  Cobbett  the 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR.        249 

ploughboy  illustrate  the  influence  of  early  hardship  in  im~ 
parting  vigor  to  the  man  who  overcomes  it.  Some  of  the 
most  renowned  scientists,  like  Alexander  Wilson  the  weaver 
and  Richard  Arkwright  the  barber  pedler  have  illustrated  the 
same.  James  Ferguson  the  astronomer  was  the  son  of  parents 
so  indigent  that  they  could  not  give  him  a  school  education  of 
more  than  three  months,  but  while  employed  by  a  farmer  in 
tending  flocks  of  sheep  at  night  he  studied  the  stars,  and 
became  self-taught  in  many  principles  of  his  favorite  science. 
Michael  Faraday  received  but  little  education  in  his  boyhood, 
was  early  apprenticed  to  a  bookbinder,  and  while  he  found 
that  "hard  is  the  path  from  poverty  to  renown,"  yet  as  he 
worked  his  way  along  that  path  he  fortified  the  unshrinking 
spirit  which  would  perhaps  have  been  abated  by  wealth. 
George  Stephenson,  the  founder  of  the  railway  system  of 
Great  Britain,  was  when  nine  years  old  employed  at  twopence 
a  day  in  looking  after  the  cows  of  a  neighbor,  and  when 
eighteen  years  old  had  not  learned  the  letters  of  the  alphabet, 
and  when  twenty-four  years  old  was  still  working  in  a  colliery, 
where  "  in  his  leisure  hours  he  studied  mechanics  and  engineer- 
ing, mended  clocks  and  shoes,  cut  out  clothes  for  the  miners," 
and  in  a  large  variety  of  ways  cultivated  and  augmented  his 
native  energy. 

Some  of  the  most  fascinating  poets  of  the  world  have 
illustrated  the  story  that  the  nightingale  sings  his  sweetest 
song  when  his  breast  presses  against  a  thorn.  Dryden  felt 
that  he  had  little  reason  to  be  grateful  for  having  been  born 
an  Englishman ;  for  he  deemed  it  to  be  quite  enough  for  one 
century  that  it  neglected  a  Cowley  and  saw  a  Butler  starved 
to  death.  Poets  like  Richard  Bloomfield  and  the  Ettrick 
Shepherd  owe  their  power  over  us  in  no  small  degree  to  the 
fact  that  we  sympathize  with  them  in  their  early  privations. 
The  British  mind  has  been  moulded  in  no  small  degree  by  the 
bards  who  have  sung  to  it ;  and  if  some  of  them,  like  Savage 
and  Burns,  had  retained  the  frugal  and  industrious  habits 
which  their  poverty  was  adapted  to  cherish,  how  much  brighter 


250        THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR. 

would  have  been  their  illustrations  of  the  wisdom  which  pre- 
scribes that  the  gospel  be  preached  to  the  poor. 

We  need  not  go  through  the  lengthened  list  of  artists  whose 
studio  became  the  keener  delight  to  them  because  it  was  in 
contrast  with  their  early  indigence.  Giotto  was  a  shepherd 
boj,  and  the  sheep  which  he  tended  were  his  first  models, 
and  the  earth  on  which  he  drew  marks  with  his  finger  was 
his  first  canvas.  Many  of  the  eminent  artists  have  never 
enjoyed  the  significant  privilege  given  to  Hogarth,  whose 
father  was  poor  enough  and  intelligent  enough  to  "  put  the 
son  in  the  way  of  earning  his  own  livelihood."  They  have 
earned  their  living  without  or  against  parental  advice.^ 

There  are  statesmen,  too,  whose  boyhood  was  spent  in 
wrestling  with  penury,  and  thus  acquiring  that  nerve  and 
fortitude  which  are  indispensable  for  pressing  through  crowds. 
It  may  be  that  Andrew  Jackson,  Zachary  Taylor,  Abraham 
Lincoln,  James  A.  Garfield  would  never  have  reached  their 
exalted  oSice  if  their  early  indigence  had  not  moved  a  sym- 
pathizing people  to  raise  them  upward. 

Theologians,  also,  have  received  an  impulse  from  the  nar- 
rowness of  their  early  homes  to  cultivate  an  intrepid  spirit 
which  might  have  been  subdued  by  the  ease  of  living.  Dr. 
Samuel  Lee,  the  renowned  Orientalist,  acquired  the  rudiments 
of  his  education  at  a  charity  school,  was  apprenticed  when 
twelve  years  old  to  a  carpenter,  was  led  to  study  the  Hebrew 
language  by  his  interest  in  a  Hebrew  Bible  which  he  found 
while  working  at  his  trade  in  a  Jewish  synagogue.  Dr.  John 
Kitto,  author  of  the  Biblical  Cyclopaedia,  was  indebted  to 
the  poor-rates  for  his  subsistence,  and  his  first  essays  were 
composed  in  a  poor-house. 

It  is  proverbial  that  multitudes  of  eminent  pastors  and 
missionaries  have  risen  like  the  dew  of  heaven  from  the 
valley  to  the  mountain  tops,  —  and  "  how  beautiful  upon  the 
mountains."     They  have  been  less  compliant  with  ephemeral 

1  "  My  Lord,  you  want  nothing  but  poverty  to  become  a  very  excellent 
painter,"  said  Turner  to  a  nobleman  who  was  an  amateur  artist. 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR.        251 

fashions,  have  been  more  resolute  and  independent  thinkers, 
have  worked  with  more  indomitable  vigor  than  if  they  had 
been  trained  amid  the  conventionalities  of  wealth.  Dr.  Carey 
has  been  called  the  great  reformer  of  India,  and  also  an 
apostate  from  the  last.  His  coadjutor,  Dr.  Marshman,  per- 
formed an  Herculean  work  in  the  Indian  mission,  and  has 
been  called  an  apostate  from  the  shuttle.  It  has  been  common 
to  sneer  at  the  ministers  who  have  thus  emerged  from  the 
factory  and  the  workshop,  and  to  look  down  upon  them  as 
belonging  to  the  lower  classes.  But  we  must  remember  that 
often  men  in  humble  life  have  a  robustness  of  understanding 
and  a  soundness  of  moral  principle  raising  them  above  the 
majority  of  their  race ;  and  if  they  are  low,  it  is  in  the  sense 
of  their  being  at  the  basis  of  society  ;  and  "  if  the  foundations 
be  destroyed,  what  can  the  righteous  do  ? " 

2.  There  is  another  reason  for  preaching  the  gospel  to  the 
poor :  They  are  representatives  of  the  majority  of  men.  They 
either  are,  or  else  they  represent,  the  larger  part  of  the  race. 
"What  they  want  in  the  influence  of  single  individuals,  they 
supply  in  the  influence  of  numbers.  The  poor  are  those  who 
are  in  want.  Some  of  them  are  in  extreme  want,  and  are 
said  to  be  in  a  state  of  indigence  or  penury.  Some  are  poor 
constantly,  others  occasionally ;  some  in  the  absolute  sense, 
others  in  a  relative  sense.  An  estate  which  leaves  a  king 
poor  would  make  a  beggar  rich.  We  are  not  said  to  be  in 
penury  or  indigence,  or  even  in  poverty,  because  we  have  no 
wings  or  horns,  for  we  have  no  need  of  them ;  but  there  is 
an  important  sense  in  which  we  may  be  classed  among  the 
poor  when  we  find  it  difficult  to  obtain  the  comforts  of  life, 
when  we  are  in  want  of  that  which  we  need  for  our  relief  from 
hardship  and  painful  struggle.  In  the  spirit  of  our  text  we 
are  poor  when  we  have  a  want  of  anything  which  is  necessary 
for  making  our  homes  tolerable  or  comfortable.  Some  men 
are  poor  not  for  lack  of  money,  but  for  lack  of  talent.  They 
have  so  little  foresight  and  prudence  that  they  cannot  husband 


252        THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR. 

their  gold  and  silver,  and  they  go  as  poorly  clad  and  fed  as 
if  they  were  penniless  ;  they  are  "  poor  for  fear  of  poverty." 
Other  men  are  termed  poor  not  because  they  have  a  want  of 
intellect  or  funds,  but  because  they  have  a  want  of  health. 
They  dwell  in  ceiled  houses,  but  they  experience  more  diffi- 
culty in  making  life  tolerable  than  if  they  dwelt  in  a  hovel 
where  the  sword  of  a  pulmonary  consumption  was  not 
hanging  over  them.  Their  tables  are  loaded  with  the  most 
costly  viands,  but  a  dinner  of  herbs  would  be  to  them  a 
feast  if  the  neuralgia  would  cease  to  embitter  their  repasts. 
There  are  other  men  who  are  blessed  with  healthy  bodies 
and  imperial  minds  and  princely  fortunes,  and  yet  are  poor, 
for  they  are  bereaved.  They  are  in  want,  they  are  in  beg- 
gary for  friends.  God  has  changed  the  countenance  of  the 
husband,  and  sent  him  away  ;  God  has  closed  the  eyes  of  the 
wife,  and  she  careth  for  her  loved  ones  no  more  ;  God  has 
silenced  the  voice  of  the  children,  and  the  house  is  still. 
Edmund  Burke  was  a  poor  man  when  his  son  had  bidden 
him  the  last  farewell.  Quintilian  found  it  hard  to  make 
life  bearable  when  his  little  boy  slept  in  the  tomb.  And 
even  when  the  heir  to  a  large  estate  is  endued  with  brilliant 
genius,  and  surrounded  with  smiling  friends,  and  his  cup  of 
physical  health  runneth  over,  he  yet  may  be  represented  as 
a  poor  man ;  for  he  sees  and  feels  that  all  earthly  treasures 
are  ill  fitted  to  satisfy  the  wants  of  a  mind  made  for  eternity. 
In  the  garden  of  luxurious  fruits  he  hungers  for  a  better 
refreshment ;  at  a  table  sparkling  with  cordials  he  thirsts 
for  a  richer  stimulus ;  clothed  in  Russian  sables,  he  shivers 
in  the  cold  of  spiritual  need,  and  longs  for  that  robe  of  a 
Saviour's  righteousness  inwrought  with  the  gold  which  never 
becomes  dim.  "  I  know,"  he  cricth,  "  I  am  wretched  and 
miserable  and  poor  and  blind  and  naked."  To  this  class 
of  suffering  men  is  the  gospel  a  word  of  consolation,  and 
to  all  these  classes  of  men  in  want  is  the  gospel  preached, 
because  taken  all  together  they  make  up  the  mass  of  the 
community. 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR.        253 

3.  This  thought  suggests  an  additional  reason  why  the  gos- 
pel is  preached  to  the  poor :  They  who  experience  a  marked 
difficulty  in  gaining  the  comforts  of  life  are  apt  to  feel  their 
need  of  the  gospel.  It  is  the  tendency  of  wealth,  whether  it 
be  wealth  of  gold  or  of  genius  or  of  friends  or  of  a  physical 
temperament  or  of  satisfaction  with  terrestrial  good,  to  with- 
draw the  affections  from  the  Author  of  that  good.  The  rich 
love  to  receive  their  consolation  in  this  world ;  but  when 
bereft  of  sublunary  joys  they  look  for  help  above  the  stars. 
The  learned  man  proves  the  truth  of  the  Bible  by  recondite 
arguments  ;  the  indigent  man  is  drawn  to  it  by  his  personal 
sympathy  with  the  tax-gatherers  and  the  fishermen  who  first 
proclaimed  it.  His  physical  necessities  give  him  a  witness 
in  himself  that  he  is  dependent  on  the  carpenter  and  the  son 
of  a  carpenter  who  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head.  Tischen- 
dorf  deciphers  obscure  manuscripts ;  the  godly  peasant  cannot 
understand  them,  but  he  is  compelled  to  rely  on  Providence 
for  his  daily  bread  ;  he  is  thus  brought  near  to  God  ;  he  de- 
tects the  fitness  of  the  gospel  to  relieve  his  trouble,  and  thus 
his  own  heart  becomes  a  manuscript  written  all  over  with 
the  finger  of  God.  That  was  a  simple  saying  of  Izaak  Walton : 
"  I  will  tell  you,  scholar,  I  have  heard  a  great  divine  say  that 
God  has  two  dwellings  —  one  in  heaven,  and  the  other  in  a 
meek  and  thankful  heart."  This  was  indeed  a  simple  say- 
ing, for  Izaak  Walton  does  not  appear  to  have  been  thinking 
that  "thus  saith  the  high  and  lofty  One,  that  inhabiteth 
eternity,  whose  name  is  holy :  I  dwell  in  the  high  and  holy 
place,  with  him  also  that  is  of  a  contrite  and  humble  spirit." 
"  God  is  that  marvellous  being  to  whom  the  only  great  thing 
is  himself ;  a  world  is  to  him  an  atom,  and  an  atom  is  to  him 
a  world."  Therefore  he  is  revealed  as  the  God  who  "  hath 
respect  unto  the  poor."  It  is  a  sign  of  greatness,  even  in  a 
man,  that  he  "  condescend  to  things  that  are  lowly." 

4.  Several  other  reasons  for  preaching  the  gospel  to  the 
poor  are  comprehended  in  the  general  fact  that  this  arrange- 


254        THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR. 

ment  tends  to  equalize  and  bind  together  the  differing  classes 
of  society.  The  indigent  are  deprived  of  costly  privileges 
given  to  the  rich.  They  are  less  able  to  purchase  books  and 
other  records  of  learned  men,  to  frequent  the  schools  of 
science  in  their  own  and  foreign  lands,  to  spend  their  time 
"without  interruption  in  efforts  for  self-improvement.  Their 
merciful  Father  has  provided  a  compensation  for  them  in 
sending  to  them  the  gospel,  free  as  the  water  they  drink  and 
the  air  they  breathe.  This  plan  of  supplying  the  want  of  one 
privilege  by  giving  another,  and  sometimes  a  greater  one, 
distinguishes  the  government  of  Him  whose  "  tender  mercies 
are  over  all  his  works."  He  adopts  many  expedients  for 
restoring  the  equilibrium  of  society.  "  Did  not  God  choose 
them  that  are  poor  as  to  the  world  to  be  rich  in  faith,  and 
heirs  of  the  kingdom  which  he  promised  to  them  that  love 
him  ? "  So  bountiful  and  wonderful  are  the  gifts  bestowed 
on  men  whom  we  are  inclined  to  pity,  that  we  are  led  to 
associate  true  virtue  with  their  very  names,  and  are  apt  to 
think  of  indigent  men  when  our  Lord  says :  "  Blessed  are 
the  poor  in  spirit "  ;  "  Blessed  are  the  meek  "  ;  "  Blessed 
are  they  that  mourn,"  and  "that  hunger  and  thirst  after 
righteousness." 

As  in  a  certain  sense  and  degree  it  is  his  plan  to  equalize 
the  privileges  of  men  who  in  some  respects  are  unequal,  so 
in  a  certain  sense  and  degree  it  is  his  plan  to  cement  together 
the  classes  who  are  left  unequal.  The  wise  ones  of  the  world 
have  proposed  that  rich  men  meet  together  by  themselves, 
and  that  poor  men  worship  apart  in  their  own  poor  house  ; 
but  the  spirit  of  the  gospel  endorses  the  plan  that  the  rich 
and  the  poor  meet  together,  for  the  Lord  is  the  Maker  of  them 
all.  The  Christian  minister  infuses  a  kindly  spirit  through 
a  parish ;  for  he  interweaves  the  sympathies  of  the  affluent 
with  those  of  the  indigent.  Let  the  brother  of  low  degree 
rejoice  in  that  he  is  exalted  when  he  sits  as  a  fellow-heir  at 
the  same  communion  table  with  his  rich  townsman,  and  let 
the  rich  man  be  glad  in  that  he  is  made  low  when  he  kneels 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR.        255 

with  the  poorest  of  the  parish  at  the  same  altar,  before  the 
same  Majesty  of  the  universe  ;  for  the  earnest  spirit  of  the 
poor  man  stimulates  the  rich  to  a  more  lively  faith ;  and  the 
courtly  manners  of  the  rich  man  smooth  the  furrowed  brow 
of  even  the  pauper  with  the  assurance  of  Christian  brother- 
hood. Robert  Hall  tells  us  of  a  celebrated  poet  and  noble- 
man who  was  in  the  habit  of  attending  a  prayer-meeting  in 
a  country  village  with  a  few  indigent  countrymen.  They 
were  accustomed  to  make  way  for  him  as  he  entered  the 
room,  and  to  give  him  the  highest  seat.  But  he  refused  their 
deferential  regards.  He  chose  to  sit  with  them.  He  elec- 
trified them  with  his  touch,  and  they  electrified  him ;  for 
electricity  passes  out  of  objects  and  into  objects  that  are  in 
contact.  It  is  an  honor  to  sit  with  the  poor  man,  for  he  is 
a  representative  of  his  Lord.  It  is  an  honor  to  commune  at 
the  same  table  with  the  poor  man,  for  his  pressing  needs  are 
emblems  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows.  It  is  an  honor  to  preach 
the  gospel  to  the  poor  man,  for  his  humble  mien  is  a  picture 
of  the  lowly  Master.  That  Master,  exalted  from  his  lowly 
state  on  earth  to  the  throne  of  final  judgment,  will  say  to 
his  faithful  preachers :  Inasmuch  as  ye  ministered  to  the 
hungry  and  the  thirsty,  and  tli^  stranger  and  the  imprisoned, 
ye  did  it  unto  me.  As  the  Most  High  has  chosen  to  glorify 
the  church  of  the  lowly  by  means  of  the  Man  who  had  not 
where  to  lay  his  head,  so  it  has  been  often  imagined  that  he 
has  chosen  to  glorify  this  poor  earth  above  the  richer  globes 
of  space  by  making  this  ignoble  part  of  his  universe  the  scene 
of  his  brightest  manifestations  of  grace.  His  general  plan 
is  to  ennoble  the  needy. 

Here  we  perceive  how  logical  was  the  argument  contained, 
but  condensed,  in  our  Redeemer's  dialogue  with  the  disciples 
of  the  Baptist.  How  clearly  he  proved  that  he  was  the  true 
Messiah  and  his  mission  was  divine.  His  reasoning  is  coiled 
up  in  a  single  sentence,  which  may  be  unfolded  in  the  fol- 
lowing details : 


256        THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR. 

You  know  the  plan  of  my  Father.  You  see  the  plan  of 
my  mission.  You  perceive  that  one  is  just  like  the  other. 
You  may  infer  that  the  exact  likeness  between  the  two  is 
the  result  of  my  Father's  wisdom.  A  merely  human  indi- 
vidual could  not  have  devised  this  plan.  I  ask  you,  What  is 
the  plan  of  God  ?  You  reply,  with  the  Psalmist :  "  The  Lord 
openeth  the  eyes  of  the  blind."  That  is  true ;  go  and  tell 
John:  "The  blind  see."  I  ask  again:  Wliat  is  the  plan  of 
God  ?  You  answer,  with  Isaiah :  "  When  he  cometh,  the 
ears  of  the  deaf  shall  be  unstopped."  That  is  right ;  go  and 
tell  John  :  "  The  deaf  hear."  I  repeat  my  question  :  What 
is  the  plan  of  God  ?  You  answer,  with  the  prophet :  "  Wlien 
he  cometh,  the  lame  man  shall  leap  as  a  hart."  That  is  the 
fact;  go  and  tell  John:  "The  lame  walk."  Again  I  ask: 
What  is  the  divine  plan  ?  You  reply,  with  the  Psalmist : 
"Bless  the  Lord  who  healeth  all  thy  diseases."  You  have 
answered  well ;  go  and  tell  John  that  even  "the  lepers  are 
cleansed."  Once  more  I  ask:  Wliat  is  the  plan  of  God? 
Once  more  you  reply,  with  the  Psalmist :  "  It  is  he  who 
redeemeth  thy  life  from  destruction."  You  have  answered 
discreetly ;  go  and  tell  John :  "  The  dead  are  raised  up." 
At  last  I  put  the  question  :  Wliat  is  the  great  plan  of  God  ? 
At  last  you  say,  with  the  Psalmist :  "  Thou,  0  God,  hast 
prepared  of  thy  goodness  for  the  poor."  That  is  well  said, 
and  I  add  the  words  of  Isaiah,  when  he  spake  of  me,  "  The 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me,  because  the  Lord  hath  anointed 
me  to  preach  good  tidings  to  the  meek  ;  he  hath  sent  me 
to  bind  up  the  broken-hearted,  to  comfort  all  that  mourn." 
The  divine  plan  is  sketched  in  the  words,  "  Ho,  every  one 
that  tliirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters,  and  he  that  hath  no 
money ;  come  ye,  buy  and  eat,  yea,  come,  buy  wine  and  milk 
without  money  and  without  price."  Nothing  can  be  more 
exact.  Tell  John  that  you  have  beheld  the  feast  of  the  gos- 
pel, and  have  heard  the  commission  given  to  the  servants : 
Go  out  quickly  into  the  streets  and  lanes  of  the  city,  and 
bring  in  hither  the  poor  and  the  maimed  and  the  halt  and 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR.        257 

the  blind  ;  and  yet  there  is  room.  Therefore  go  out  into  the 
highways  and  hedges,  and  gather  together  "  not  many  wise 
men,  not  many  noble,  but  the  foolish  things  of  the  world, 
and  the  weak  things,  and  base  things,  and  things  which  are 
despised,  and  things  which  are  not,  to  bring  to  nought  things 
that  are." 

A  great  and  practical  thought  lying  at  the  basis  of  this 
discourse  is,  that  the  distinctive  work  in  which  a  minister  of 
the  gospel  becomes  an  almoner  to  the  poor  is  the  work  of 
preaching  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel.  All  history  proves 
that  he  is  an  almoner  to  the  poor.  While  he  has  been  out  of 
sight  he  has  been  moving  the  wheels  that  propel  the  ma- 
chinery of  social  beneficence.  Robert  Hall  says  :  "  You 
might  have  traversed  the  Roman  empire  in  the  zenith  of  its 
power,  from  the  Euphrates  to  the  Atlantic,  without  meeting 
with  a  single  charitable  asylum  for  the  sick.  Monuments  of 
pride,  of  ambition,  of  vindictive  wrath  were  to  be  found  in 
abundance,  but  not  one  legible  record  of  commiseration  'for 
the  poor.  It  was  reserved  for  the  religion  whose  basis  is 
humility  and  whose  element  is  devotion  to  proclaim  with 
authority  :  '  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall  obtain 
mercy.' "  ^  When  our  Redeemer  was  on  earth  with  the  pul)- 
licans  and  tax-gatherers,  when  his  apostles  were  educating 
the  humbler  classes,  when  the  successors  of  the  twelve 
apostles  had  laid  the  foundations  for  the  beneficent  endow- 
ments of  the  world,  their  work  was  scarcely  observed  by  even 
the  most  far-sighted  of  the  Roman  philosophers,  statesmen, 
or  historians.  It  was  a  spiritual  work.  The  grain  of  mustard- 
seed  was  planted  deep  under  ground.  The  great  eleemosy- 
nary institutions  of  society  were  started  by  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount,  which  did  not  mention  one  of  them.  That  ser- 
mon is  the  basis  of  the  gospel.  It  is  our  directory  for  the 
preaching  of  the  evangelical  system. 

1  The  Works  of  the  Rev.  Robert  Hall,  A.M.,  Vol.  ii.  pp.  487,  488  (American 
edition,  1833). 


258        THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR. 

In  preaching  the  gospel  we  must  address  the  intellect  and 
the  conscience  in  order  to  reach  the  heart.  We  must  lay 
hold  of  the  principles  which  lie  imbedded  in  the  very  nature 
of  duty.  We  must  not  only  repeat  the  promises  of  God,  but 
we  must  also  unfold  his  character ;  for  apart  from  the  divine 
character  there  is  no  gospel.  In  unfolding  the  character 
of  God  we  must  explain  his  law  ;  for  his  law  is  the  trans- 
script  of  his  perfections,  and  apart  from  the  law  as  interpreted 
by  Christ  the  gospel  has  no  meaning.  But  we  cannot  unfold 
the  law  of  God  without  proclaiming  the  sinfulness  of  men, 
and  we  cannot  duly  proclaim  the  sinfulness  of  men  without 
warning  them  of  their  danger ;  and  since  the  atonement  has 
been  made,  we  cannot  properly  warn  men  of  their  danger 
without  exhibiting  to  them  the  great  doctrine  of  the  atone- 
ment. This  doctrine  appeases  the  spiritual  hunger  and 
quenches  the  spiritual  thirst,  compared  with  which  all  physical 
hunger  and  physical  thirst  are  unworthy  of  notice.  A  loving 
confidence  in  the  atoning  work  of  Christ  relieves  men  from 
that  degree  of  poverty  which  is  called  indigence  and  penury ; 
from  that  kind  of  indigence  and  penury  compared  with  which 
all  physical  want  is  a  mere  nothing.  This  faith  involves  a 
supreme  love  to  God,  and  we  cannot  love  him  without  also  lov- 
ing the  men  for  whose  spiritual  poverty  he  who  was  once  rich 
became  poor.  It  involves  a  love  to  his  law,  and  we  cannot 
obey  his  commands  unless  we  love  the  poorest  of  our  fellow- 
men  as  we  love  ourselves,  and  we  cannot  breathe  forth  this 
affection  unless  we  labor  for  the  fulfilment  of  the  promise 
that  the  "  meek  shall  inherit  the  earth,  and  delight  themselves 
in  tlie  abundance  of  peace."  The  best  and  most  enduring 
charities  to  the  poor  are  the  fruits  of  Christian  love,  and 
this  love  has  its  roots  in  the  gospel.  He  who  rightly  preaches 
this  gospel  is  in  heart  a  missionary  in  the  town  where  he 
labors.  He  is  a  missionary  to  the  heathen.  He  founds  the 
needed  asylums  for  the  indigent,  the  needed  hospitals  for  the 
sick,  the  needed  schools  or  colleges  or  universities  for  all 
who  hunger  and  thirst  after  knowledge.     It  is  not  he  that 


THE  GOSPEL  PREACHED  TO  THE  POOR.         259 

does  it.  The  gospel  does  it.  It  is  not  the  gospel  alone  that 
does  it.  It  is  the  gospel  as  instinct  with  life,  and  enclosing 
the  power  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  and  preached  bj  Apollos  or 
Paul  or  some  other  man  who  breathes  the  atmosphere  dif- 
fused by  that  Spirit.  "  What  then  is  Apollos  ?  and  what  is 
Paul  ?  Neither  is  he  that  planteth  anything,  neither  he  that 
watereth  ;  but  God  that  giveth  the  increase." 


XI. 

CONSCIENCE. 

ROMANS     II.     14,15. 

FOE  WH  EN  GENTILES  WHICH  HAVE  NO  LAW  DO  BY  NATURE  THE  THINGS  OF  THE  LAW, 
THESE,  HAVING  NO  LAW,  AKE  A  LAW  UNTO  THEMSELVES;  IN  THAT  THEY  SHOW  THB 
WORK  OP  THE  LAW  WRITTEN  IN  THEIR  HEARTS,  THEIR  CONSCIENCE  BEARING  WIT- 
NESS THEREWITH,  AND  THEIR  THOUGHTS  ONE  WITH  ANOTHER  ACCUSING  OR  ELSH 
EXCUSING  THEM. 

Von  Humboldt  has  remarked  that  "  every  man,  however 
good  he  may  be,  has  a  yet  better  man  dwelling  within  him, 
which  is  properly  himself,  but  to  whom  nevertheless  he  is  often 
unfaithful.  It  is  to  the  interior  and  less  mutable  being  that 
we  should  attach  ourselves,  not  to  the  changeable  every-day 
man."  We  may  say  that  every  man,  however  bad  he  may 
be,  has  a  good  man  dwelling  within  him.  This  good  man  is 
conscience,  and  is  so  far  superior  to  the  perverse  will  that  it 
is  sometimes  called  the  man  himself.  The  prodigal  son 
came  from  his  sensuality  to  himself,  —  to  his  reason  includ- 
ing his  conscience.^  Every  transgressor  needs  to  "  assure," 
conciliate,  pacify  his  own  conscience  as  if  it  were  a  superior 
self,  condemning  the  inferior  self, —  the  will  which  has  trans- 
gressed the  law.2 

Our  text  informs  us  that  pagans  as  well  as  Christians  have 
this  inward  monitor  for  guiding  them  into  the  way  of  duty. 
They  know  what  holiness  is,  for  conscience  tells  them  what 
it  is.  They  know  what  sin  is,  for  conscience  tells  them  what  it 
is.     Our  context  informs  us  that  they  are  without  excuse,  for 

i  Luke  XV.  17. 

"  1  John  iii.  19,  20.    "  Assure  onr  heart "  including  the  conscience. 


CONSCIENCE.  261 

they  have  known  the  right  and  have  done  the  wrong.  ^  Both 
our  text  and  context  imply  that  all  men,  with  or  without 
the  gospel,  have  a  conscience,  and  will  be  judged  by  the  law 
of  conscience.  The  missionary  goes  to  the  heathen  because 
they  have  the  distinguishing  faculties  of  man  ;  because  they 
have  essentially  the  same  moral  law  which  he  has  ;  because 
they  are  persons,  and  the  law  is  written  on  their  conscience,^ 
they  are  a  law  to  themselves,  they  accuse  themselves  of  moral 
wrong,  or  else  excuse  themselves  if  falsely  charged  with 
moral  wrong;  they  know  that  men  who  commit  sin  are 
worthy  of  punishment  and  are  in  daily  peril  of  receiving  it. 
There  are  thousands  and  millions  in  Christian  lands  who  are 
as  ignorant  of  moral  principles  as  multitudes  of  the  pagans 
are  ;  but  notwithstanding  all  their  ignorance  they  still  retain 
the  power  of  perceiving  what  their  duty  is,  they  retain  the 
sensibility  for  remorse  in  view  of  neglecting  their  duty. 
The  cause  of  missions  to  the  foreign  heathen  and  to  the 
home  heathen  depends  on  the  fact  that  these  heathen  can, 
and  do  apprehend  moral  truth  and  moral  law.  The  useful- 
ness of  the  Christian  ministry  depends  on  the  fact  that  the 
minister  addresses  his  discourses  to  the  conscience  of  the 
hearer,  and  the  hearer  applies  them  to  his  own  conscience, 
and  in  this  way  the  Spirit  of  God  convicts  men  '  in  respect 
to  sin  and  righteousness  and  judgment.'  ^  The  first  princi- 
ples of  morals  and  religion  are  enveloped  in  the  nature  of 
this  moral  faculty ;  therefore  we  may  well  endeavor  to  under- 
stand what  the  faculty  is. 

I.  What,  then,  is  conscience  ?  The  conscience  of  a  man  is 
the  man  himself  viewed  as  qualified  to  perform  certain  opera- 
tions.    What  are  these  operations  ?  * 

1.  Conscience  forms  an  idea  of  the  right  or  holy  as  distinct 
from  the  fit  or  beautiful  or  useful  and  from  every  other  quality. 

1  Rom.  i.  18-25,32. 

-  Eom.  ii.  15.     "  The  work  of  the  law  written  in  their  hearts,"  incliiditi<^  the 
conscience. 
«  John  xvi.  8.  *  See  Note  A,  at  the  end  of  the  sermon,  p.  292. 


262  CONSCIENCE. 

It  also  forms  an  idea  of  the  wrong  or  sinful  as  distinct  from 
the  unfit  or  ugly  or  hurtful  and  from  every  other  quality. 
It  forms  an  idea  of  a  moral  agent  as  one  who  puts  forth  a 
right,  that  is,  a  holy  choice,  or  as  one  who  puts  forth  a  wrong, 
that  is,  a  sinful  choice.  The  right  or  holy  choice  cannot  be 
separated  from  the  moral  agent,  but  it  is  the  moral  agent 
choosing  a  certain  good  and  refusing  a  certain  evil.  The 
wrong  or  sinful  choice  cannot  be  separated  from  the  moral 
agent,  but  it  is  the  moral  agent  refusing  a  certain  good  and 
choosing  a  certain  evil. 

2.  Conscience  judges,  decides  the  question,  what  is  the 
right  or  holy  choice,  and  what  is  the  wrong  or  sinful  choice. 
It  forms  this  judgment  first  of  all  with  regard  to  that  pre- 
dominant choice  or  elective  preference  which  is  the  moral 
principle, —  the  character  of  a  man.  It  repeats  this  judgment 
in  regard  to  those  subordinate  preferences  in  which  his  moral 
principle  is  acted  out.  It  judges  that  the  man  in  his  generic 
preference  is  holy  or  sinful,  and  it  judges  also  that  the  man 
is  holy  or  sinful  in  his  minor  separate  preferences,  which  are 
individual  instances  of  his  generic  choice.  It  judges  that  a 
man  is  holy  not  because  his  outward  deeds  are  expressions 
of  holiness,  but  because  he  loves  God  more  than  he  loves  any 
other  object.  It  judges  that  a  man  is  sinful  not  as  perform- 
ing outward  deeds  which  are  expressions  of  sin,  but  as  loving 
himself  or  the  world  more  than  he  loves  God.  The  man  is 
not  holy  or  sinful  because  his  outward  acts  are  good  or  evil, 
but  his  outward  acts  are  good  or  evil  because  the  man  is  holy 
or  sinful. 

3.  Conscience  perceives  and  feels  that  a  moral  agent  is 
obligated,  is  under  obligation  to  put  forth  a  right  choice  and 
to  abstain  from  putting  forth  a  wrong  one.  In  this  third 
exercise  the  mind  forms  its  idea  of  ou^ht ;  of  duty  as  distinct 
from  prudence  or  interest ;  of  our  being  responsible,  accoun- 
table for  putting  forth  the  choice  which  we  must  put  forth,  and 
are  bound  to  put  forth  while  we  are  free  to  refrain  from  it. 

4.  Wliile  judging  actions  to  be  right,  the  conscience  feels 


CONSCIENCE.  263 

a  peculiar  kind  of  satisfaction  in  them,  and  while  judging 
actions  to  be  wrong  it  feels  a  peculiar  kind  of  dissatisfaction 
in  them.  In  this  judgment  and  satisfaction  the  conscience  is 
said  to  approve  the  acts  ;  in  the  judgment  and  dissatisfac- 
tion the  conscience  is  said  to  disapprove  them.  Sometimes 
the  judgment  predominates  ;  sometimes  the  feeling  predomi- 
nates. When  the  feeling  predominates  the  approbation  is 
what  Dr.  Thomas  Brown  calls  a  kind  of  "  moral  love,"  and  is 
distinguished  as  complacency  in  the  right ;  the  disapproba- 
tion is  a  kind  of  moral  hatred,  and  is  distinguished  as  displa- 
cency  in  the  wrong.  When  the  sinful  act  has  been  performed 
by  ourselves  the  displacency  is  often  intensified,  and  is  distin- 
guished by  the  name  compunction,  or  remorse ; —  compunc- 
tion, a  feeling  more  painful  than  sorrow  ; —  remorse,  a  feeling 
more  bitter  than  regret. 

5.  Conscience  perceives  and  feels  the  merit  of  actions 
which  it  approves  as  holy,  and  the  demerit  of  actions  which 
it  disapproves  as  sinful.  It  perceives  and  feels  that  the 
former  deserve  tlie  complacency  and  the  latter  deserve  the 
displacency  of  all  moral  agents.^  It  perceives  more  and 
rises  liigher  than  this.  It  perceives  and  feels  that  if  holy 
acts  are  not  the  just  payment  of  an  antecedent  debt,  they 
deserve  to  be  rewarded  by  a  moral  ruler,  and  that  all  unholy 
acts  deserve  to  be  punished  by  a  moral  ruler.  In  the  fifth 
combined  with  the  fourth  exercise  of  its  moral  faculty  the 
mind  forms  its  idea  of  moral  law  -  as  distinct  from  instruc- 
tion or  advice  ;  of  moral  reward  as  distinct  from  mere  happi- 
ness ;  of  moral  punishment  as  distinct  from  mere  pain  ;  of 
conviction  for  sin  as  distinct  from  mere  terror  in  view  of  its 
results.  A  moral  reward  for  holy  acts  is  something  more 
than  a  ruler's  feeling  a  complacency  in  them ;  it  is  such  an 

1  We  say  that  a  choice  or  elective  preference  has  merit  or  demerit,  good  or  ill 
desert.  Of  course  we  mean  that  the  man,  in  choosing  or  electively  preferring, 
has  tiiis  good  or  ill  desert.  The  deserving  man  is  still  termed  a  "dcserver"; 
the  ill-deserving  man  was  in  Shakespeare's  day  called  an  "  undeserver." 

'^  "  Till  somebody  has  a  conscience,  nobody  can  feel  a  law."  Dr.  Martineau's 
"Endeavors  after  the  Christian  Life,"  p.  355  (American  ed.),  1876. 


264  CONSCIENCE. 

expression  of  his  complacency  as  awakens  in  the  obedient 
subject  a  new  complacency  and  joy.  A  moral  punishment 
for  unholy  acts  is  something  more  than  the  ruler's  feeling- 
a  displaccncy  in  them,  it  is  such  an  expression  of  his  dis- 
placency  as  excites  in  the  disobedient  subject  a  new 
compunction  and  remorse.  Although  remorse  of  con- 
science is  radically  distinct  from  regret  for  sin,  yet  it  in- 
tensifies the  regret ;  although  it  is  radically  distinct  from 
the  sense  of  shame  for  sin,  yet  it  quickens  the  shame ; 
although  it  is  radically  distinct  from  the  pain  of  disordered 
passions,  yet  it  deepens  the  pain  and  intermingles  a  new 
element  with  it. 

6.  Conscience  demands  that  right  acts  viewed  simply  as 
right,  and  not  as  the  just  payment  of  an  antecedent  debt,^  be 
rewarded  so  far  as  they  can  be ;  and  it  demands  that  wrong 
acts  viewed  simply  as  wrong  be  punished  so  far  as  they 
deserve  to  be.  It  does  not  demand  that  our  right  acts  viewed 
as  the  just  payment  of  a  debt  previously  due  to  our  Creator 
be  rewarded  by  him.  It  does  not  demand  that  our  wrong 
acts  viewed  as  atoned  for  and  forgiven  by  the  God-man  be 
punished.'-^  It  does  not  demand  that  our  infmite  Lawgiver 
be  distinctively  rewarded,  for  he  cannot  be,  for  there  is  no 
lawgiver  above  him  who  can  reward  him;  but  conscience 
does  demand  that  his  infinite  holiness  be  treated  with  justice 

i  See  Note  B,  at  the  end  of  the  sermon,  p.  292  sq. 

'^  Sec  Eoni.  viii.  31-34.  Among  other  Scriptures  the  first  Epistle  of  John 
illustrates  the  fact  that  when  men  repent  of  sin  and  exercise  faith  in  Christ's 
atonement,  their  conscience  ceases  to  demand  punishment  for  their  sin.  This 
Epistle  teaches  that  we  have  disobeyed  God's  law  (chap.  i.  8,  9,  et  al.) ;  that  if  we 
obey  God  we  have  been  regenerated  (ii.  29  ;  iii.  9,  10  ;  v.  1,  18,  et  al.) ;  that  if  we 
obey  we  shall  be  saved  on  the  ground  of  Christ's  atonement  (i.  7,  9  ;  ii.  I,  2, 12  ; 
iii.  5  ;  iv.  9,  10,  et  al.) ;  also  that  if  we  obey,  our  consciences  will  be  conciliated, 
tranquillized,  pacified,  so  that  we  shall  have  no  fear  of  God's  judgment,  but 
shall  have  boldness  in  view  of  it  (ii.  28  ;  iii.  18-21 ;  iv,  9,  10,  17,  18,  et  al.).  If 
men  know  themselves  to  be  destitute  of  the  obedient  spirit  their  conscience  con- 
demns them,  and  they  have  reason  to  fear  that  God,  who  has  a  fuller  knowledge 
of  their  sin  than  they  themselves  have,  will  condemn  them  more  fully.  This 
interpretation  of  1  John  iii.  18-21  is  in  substantial  accordance  with  the  views 
of  Grotius,  De  Wette,  Neandcr,  as  well  as  Calvin  and  Beza. 


CONSCIENCE.  266 

as  far  as  it  can  be,  and  to  treat  him  with  all  possible  justice 
is  to  glorify  him  in  all  possible  ways.^ 

7.  Conscience  prompts  the  mind  to  anticipate  that  right 
acts  viewed  simply  as  right  will  receive  a  reward  propor- 
tioned to  their  merit,  and  that  wrong  acts  viewed  simply 
as  wrong  will  receive  a  pnnishmcnt  proportioned  to  their 
demerit.  So  soon  as  conscience  perceives  and  feels  the  obli- 
gation to  avoid  all  sin,  and  the  ill-desert  involved  in  having 
committed  any  sin;  so  soon  as  it  clearly  apprehends  the 
nature  of  moral  law,  just  so  soon  does  it  originate  some 
degree  of  anticipation  that  the  exact  penalty  threatened  by 
this  law  will  be  inflicted.^  In  this  seventh  exercise  the  moral 
faculty  has  a  kind  of  prophetic  power,  and  it  exerts  this 
power  in  the  minds  of  pagans  as  well  as  Christians.  Its 
subtile  activity  is  developed  in  men  so  rude  and  ignorant 
that  they  appear  to  know  very  little  except  the  relations  of 
duty.  The  barbarians  saw  the  viper  hanging  on  Paul's  hand, 
and  said  among  themselves,  '  No  doubt  this  man  is  a  mur- 
derer, whom,  though  he  hath  escaped  the  sea,  yet  Justice 
suffereth  not  to  live.'  The  faculty  by  which  they  prophesied 
death  as  a  punishment  for  his  murder,  led  them  in  its  reflex 
action  to  infer  from  the  attack  of  the  venomous  animal  that 
Paul  had  committed  the  murder.  '  And  he  shook  off  the 
beast  into  the  fire,  and  felt  no  harm,'  saith  the  historian. 
'  Howbeit  they  looked  when  he  should  have  swollen  or  fallen 
down  dead ' ;  but  after  they  had  looked  long  enough  to  see 
that  no  harm  was  coming  to  him,  and  that  he  had  escaped 
from  <he  calamity  which  would  have  befallen  a  common 
man,  their  consciences  prompted  them  to  infer  that  he  was 
a  superhuman  being.^ 

The  same  tendency  to  anticipate  evil  as  the  result  of  sin, 

1  Men  complain  of  the  truth  that  God  made  all  things  for  his  own  glory;  but 
the  promotion  of  his  glory  is  demanded  by  justice  to  him,  and  this  is  demanded 
by  conscience.     See  pp.  195-202,  above. 

'^  This  anticipation  may  be  quieted  by  the  atonement.  See  Note  2  on  p.  264. 
See  Note  C,  at  the  end  of  the  sermon,  p.  294. 

^  Acts  xxviii.  2-6 


266  CONSCIENCE. 

and  to  infer  a  previous  sin  from  a  present  evil,  is  seen  in  the 
Egyptian  prison  where  ten  brethren  were  confined  three  days, 
and  there  was  specified  no  fault  which  was  deserving  of  such 
an  imprisonment.  Yet  the  consciences  of  the  incarcerated 
men  were  so  formed  as  to  associate  pain  with  transgression, 
therefore  these  consciences  acted  rcflcxly,  and  searched  the 
archives  of  the  memory  for  some  past  misdemeanor  which 
was  the  cause  of  the  present  suffering ;  "  And  they  said  one  to 
another,  We  are  verily  guilty  concerning  our  brother,  in  that 
we  saw  the  anguish  of  his  soul  when  he  besought  us,  and  we 
would  not  hear;  therefore  is  this  distress  come  upon  us." 
We  must  have  been  imprisoned  for  some  crime,  and  this 
old  crime  which  we  committed  twenty-one  years  ago,  and 
which  has  been  lying  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  un- 
avenged, comes  up  now  for  its  recompense.  And  then  the 
eldest  brother  made  a  further  development  of  his  conscience, 
and  its  aptitude  to  interpret  the  events  of  life.  It  was. 
natural  for  him  to  say :  "  I  told  you  so."  'And  Reuben  said. 
Spake  I  not  unto  you.  Do  not  sin  against  the  child  ;  and  ye 
would  not  hear  ?  therefore  behold  also  his  blood  is  required.'  ^ 

II.  Having  now  examined  the  nature  of  the  moral  faculty, 
let  us  notice  a  few  thoughts  suggested  by  it. 

1.  We  cannot  avoid  reflecting,  in  the  first  place,  upon  the 
richness  and  greatness  with  which  the  faculty  invests  the 
human  mind.  There  is  an  affluence  in  that  nature  which  is 
endowed  with  faculties  for  direction  as  well  as  those  for  action ; 
with  sensibilities  to  lead  us  right,  and  with  energies  for  mov- 
ing right.  It  is  a  pious  thing  for  a  man  sauntering  along 
the  road  to  stop  his  walk  and  look  upon  the  worm  that  keeps 
moving  about  its  head  to  the  one  side  and  the  other  in  appar- 
ent doubt  which  way  to  go,  and  at  length  starting  forward 
in  a  line  which  it  seems  to  have  selected  as  the  best  one.  It 
is  a  religious  way  of  learning  the  fulness  of  the  divine  bounty 
to  watch  the  insect  as  it  throws  out  its  antennae,  feeling, 

1  Gen.  xlii.  16-22. 


CONSCIENCE.         ^  267 

and  feeling,  and  feeling,  and  finally  moving  in  the  course 
that  is  felt  to  be  the  most  convenient.  There  is  a  sound 
lesson  of  philosophy  hung  upon  the  proboscis  of  an  elephant. 
The  movements  of  that  curious  organ  are  an  allegory  of  great 
and  deep  truths.  It  folds  up  in  itself  the  guiding  and  defend- 
ing power  of  a  wonderful,  half-reasoning  animal.  So  too  we 
sec  the  fruits  of  an  cxhaustless  liberality  in  that  strange 
principle  by  which  the  footsteps  of  the  dog  are  directed 
toward  the  hiding-place  of  the  prey,  or  toward  the  retirement 
of  a  lost  master. 

The  guiding  faculties  of  a  man  in  his  mere  physical  nature 
are  still  more  worthy  of  our  pious  meditation.  The  nerves 
of  feeling  are  spread  out  on  the  surface  of  the  body,  and  are 
most  thickly  spread  at  the  extremities,  where  they  are  most 
needed.  The  surface  of  the  body  is  the  principal  seat  of  pain, 
so  that  we  may  shrink  from  the  knife  and  the  fire,  ere  we  be 
lacerated  or  consumed.  Man  was  made  sq  that  he  may  walk 
with  dignity  and  circumspection,  looking  forward  and  seeing 
whither  he  is  to  go,  turning  backward  and  seeing  where  he 
has  gone,  glancing  too  at  the  right  hand  and  the  left;  — 
therefore  "  the  wise  man's  eyes  are  in  his  head,"  not  in  the 
palm  of  the  hand  or  the  side  of  the  foot. 

But  all  these  faculties  for  outward  guidance  are  but  em- 
blems of  what  is  within.  Within  we  have  a  complicated 
apparatus  by  the  working  of  which  man  learns  to  take  the 
safe  course,  or  the  prudent  and  judicious  course,  or  the  honor- 
able or  the  decent,  seemly,  and  delightful,  or,  above  all,  the 
right  course.  Here  is  that  moral  eye  that  looks  forward  and 
sees  how  the  man  should  move  ;  that  looks  backward  and 
sees  how  the  man  has  moved  ;  that  looks  all  around,  and 
perceives  that  the  right  course  is  the  straight  course,  and  the 
straight  course  is  the  shortest  way  to  peace.  Here  is  that 
simple  and  versatile  feeling,  ever  ready  and  prompt,  taking 
as  many  different  forms  as  the  relations  of  life  demand.  If 
a  future  duty  be  thought  of,  there  rises  the  feeling  of  ol^liga-- 
tion  to  perform  it.     If  a  present  duty  be  thought  of,  there 


26^  CONSCIENCE. 

rises  the  feeling  of  satisfaction  in  the  performance  of  it.  If 
a  past  duty  be  thought  of,  there  rises  the  anticipation  of 
reward  for  having  chosen,  or  of  punishment  for  having  re- 
fused to  perform  it.  As  the  bee  when  laden  down  with  the 
materials  for  the  honey  or  the  wax,  flies  back  to  its  hive,  so 
the  memory,  having  travelled  into  the  regions  of  the  past, 
returns  to  the  storehouse  of  the  present,  and  lays  before  the 
conscience  those  acts  of  virtue  or  of  vice  which  are  met  with 
either  complacency  or  remorse. 

It  is  from  this  monitor  of  virtue  within  us  that  our  nature 
derives  a  new  dignity.  The  nature  is  a  noble  one  because  it 
can  be  holy  and  in  communion  with  God.  We  dare  not  say 
that  it  derives  a  nobleness  from  its  power  to  sin  and  rebel 
against  its  Maker;  this,  however,  is  a  sign  of  its  original 
affluence.  The  sun  and  the  stars  cannot  debase  themselves 
in  iniquity.  The  meanness  of  man  as  a  sinner  results  from 
his  greatness  as  a  man.  He  has  an  idea  of  duty.  He  has 
a  power  to  perform  duty.  Brutes  have  no  duty.  They  are 
not  conscious  of  a  fealty  to  the  right.  They  have  no  obliga- 
tion which  they  have  the  power  to  violate.  As  the  animal 
moves  among  material  objects,  so  the  human  soul  moves 
among  spiritual ;  it  comes  into  contact  with  responsibility 
and  recompense  ;  it  touches  that  highest  of  all  objects  — 
holiness  ;  it  takes  hold  on  judgment,  on  eternity  ;  it  has  its 
senses  for  the  discernment  of  relations  which  no  poetic  fancy 
can  invest  with  new  grandeur — the  relations  of  virtue.  As 
the  animal  has  its  protruding  organs  of  sensation,  so  the 
human  race  has  its  organs  of  moral  feeling,  and  throws  them 
out  —  out  on  all  sides,  and  by  them  comes  into  close  contact 
with  ethereal  natures  —  the  cross  of  Christ,  the  throne  of 
God, —  throws  its  organs  of  feeling  out,  I  say,  backward  to 
the  first  moment  of  moral  being,  and  forward  into  eternity, 
into  the  scenes  of  moral  reward,  of  moral  punishment,  and 
predicts,  like  a  prophet  of  the  Most  High,  what  shall  be  here- 
after. 0  come,  let  us  bow  down  with  reverence  before  that 
Being  who  made  us  in  his  image  !     Let  us  adore  that  rich 


CONSCIENCE.  269 

Divinity  who  has  placed  these  jewels  within  us,  and  is  not 
impoverished  by  the  gift.  K  he  will  deign  to  superintend  a 
planet  made  out  of  rock  and  dust,  if  he  will  bow  his  glories 
to  the  care  of  the  sun  that  is  blind  and  deaf,  and  though  it 
shines  on  others,  is  itself  illumined  by  no  intelligent  light ; 
if  God  will  condescend  to  hold  systems  of  globes  in  his 
fingers,  and  to  say  of  a  material  universe,  "  It  is  good,"  then 
he  must  feel  an  illimitable  interest  in  a  man's  soul ;  then 
although  he  may  be  compelled  by  justice  to  resist  his  desire, 
yet  he  must  desire  to  save  that  immortal  nature  which  will 
be  only  beginning  to  live  when  all  the  stars  of  heaven  shall 
have  faded  away. 

2.  Partly  involved  in  the  preceding  thought  is  a  second 
one, —  the  activity  and  the  tenacity  of  the  moral  sense.  Its 
actions  are  rapid  and  multiplied  altogether  beyond  our  re- 
membered consciousness,  and  its  tendency  is  to  retain  its 
decisions,  and  to  reaffirm  them  hereafter  as  they  are  affirmed 
now. 

Conscience  is  quick  in  its  action.  The  nature  of  the  soul 
is  such  that  a  man  may  have  in  one  minute  more  thoughts 
than  he  could  express  in  ten  or  twenty  minutes,  and  he  may 
not  be  able  to  remember  one  of  these  thoughts  during  the 
very  next  minute  after  he  has  experienced  them.^  The 
nature  of  the  soul  is  such  that  every  man  takes  notice  of  all 
his  moral  judgments  at  the  time  they  are  formed  ;  but  such 
is  their  alertness  of  succession  that  his  memory  does  not  keep 
its  hold  upon  all  of  them,  and  the  man  is  now  not  fully  aware 
of  their  immense  number.  They  must  be  numerous ;  for  con- 
science is  an  eye  of  the  mind  and  sees  whatever  is  presented 
to  it,  and  the  objects  presented  to  this  eye  of  the  mind  are 
more  thickly  set  together  than  those  which  are  presented  to 

1  Kant  is  said  to  have  remarked  in  his  Lectures  "  that  we  can  dream  more  in 
a  minute  than  we  can  act  during;  the  day."  Sir  Benjamin  Brodie  informs  us 
(in  his  Psychological  Inquiries)  that  Lord  Holland,  after  hearine  the  bcffinning 
of  a  sentence,  fell  asleep,  had  a  dream  which  could  not  be  written  in  less  than 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  yet  did  not  sleep  more  than  a  few  seconds. 


270  CONSCIENCE. 

the  eye  of  tlie  body ;  and  yet  who  is  able  to  count  up  all  the 
objects  which  are  seen  by  the  corporeal  eye  when  opened  for  a 
single  moment  on  a  wide  landscape  ?  The  moral  judgments 
must  be  numerous,  for  they  are  essential  to  the  existence  of 
moral  choice,  and  the  acts  of  moral  choice  are  as  the  sand  of 
the  sea  for  multitude.  They  are  the  developments  of  the 
predominant  choice,  the  permanent  character  of  the  will. 
They  may  be  compared  to  a  stream  constantly  flowing  forth 
from  the  fountain  which  is  constantly  bubbling  up.  We  must 
exercise  a  right  or  a  wrong  preference  whenever  we  think  of 
the  Creator  as  the  Being  to  whom  we  owe  gratitude  and 
allegiance  ;  whenever  we  think  of  our  fellow-creatures  as 
beings  whose  wants  we  can  relieve  or  whose  character  we 
can  improve  ;  whenever  we  think  of  ourselves  as  related  to 
the  sentient  natures  above  us  and  around  us.  We  are  under 
a  law  to  love  every  ethical  good,  and  hate  every  ethical  evil, 
in  proportion  to  its  claims,^  and  of  course  we  must  perform 
some  right  act  of  obedience,  or  some  wrong  act  of  disobe- 
dience, to  this  law  whenever  we  think  of  any  ethical  good  or 
any  ethical  evil. 

Is  it  objected  that,  if  our  moral  decisions  were  so  numerous, 
we  should  retain  a  remembrance  of  them  ?  Reflect  upon  the 
processes  of  a  musician.  During  a  period  of  five  or  ten  minutes 
he  may  be  reading  or  remembering  the  poetic  stanzas,  read- 
ing the  musical  notes  adapted  to  them,  reflecting  on  the  sub- 
jects directly  or  indirectly  associated  with  them,  feeling 
various  emotions  appropriate  to  these  subjects,  and  at  the 
same  time  moving  his  vocal  organs  in  harmony  with  his 
thoughts  and  sentiments,  also  moving  each  of  his  fingers 
upon  some  key  or  string  or  stop  of  his  musical  instrument,^ 
and  at  tlie  end  of  these  processes  he  can  remember  only  a 
few  of  the  sensations,  perceptions,  thoughts,  affections,  voli- 

1  The  dictates  of  conscience  as  a  lawjriver  are  in  unison  with  the  moral  law 
as  revealed  in  Matt.  xxii.  .37-40  ;  Mark  xii.  29-34,  and  parallel  passages ;  also 
in  passages  like  1  Cor.  x.  31  ;  Col.  iii.  17 ;  1  Thess.  v.  17,  18 ;  1  Pet.  iv.  11,  etc. 

'  See  Note  D,  at  the  end  of  the  sermon,  p.  294  sq. 


CONSCIENCE.  271 

tions,  which  have  been  experienced  by  him  during  the  five 
or  ten  minutes  of  his  performance.  We  have  reason  to 
believe  that  every  man,  every  hour,  may  perform  scores  of 
moral  acts  which  he  forgets  as  soon  as  he  has  performed 
them.  In  a  single  hour  the  moral  sense  may  point  out  the 
duty  of  the  hour,  and  the  will  may  refuse  to  perform  the 
duty ;  and  conscience  may  command  a  second  time,  and  the 
will  a  second  time  may  disobey  ;  and  conscience  may  renew 
again  and  again  her  mandate,  and  the  will  may  repeat  and 
reiterate  her  opposition,  and  then  the  hour  may  wind  itself  up 
and  carry  its  report  to  God ;  and  the  next  hour  the  conflict 
may  go  on  as  before,  or  perhaps  may  deepen,  and  the  third 
hour  the  alternation  of  command  and  disobedience  may  be  re- 
peated just  as  often  or  may  become  even  quicker  and  quicker ; 
and  the  whole  life  may  be  filled  up  with  this  process  of  man- 
date and  refusal,  bidding  and  defying  ;  —  the  conscience  say- 
ing, '  Thou  shalt,'  and  the  heart  responding, '  I  will  not ' ;  and 
the  rebellious  mind  asks  at  length.  Why,  what  evil  have  I 
done  ?     Wherein,  through  my  long  life,  have  I  offended  ? 

Here,  in  this  rapid  sequence  of  moral  judgments,  is  to  be 
found  a  philosophical  explanation  of  human  guilt.  As  in 
space  there  are  objects  too  small  to  be  seen  with  the  naked 
eye,  so  in  time  there  are  acts  too  minute  to  be  detected  with- 
out a  spiritual  microscope.  These  acts  are  performed,  not 
in  darkness,  but  in  the  light  constantly  radiating  from  the 
moral  faculty.  Every  sin  is  a  free,  voluntary  transgression 
of  the  law  given  by  this  ever  active  power.  Here  is  one 
scientific  ground  for  the  denunciations  of  the  Bible  against 
the  unsanctified  heart.  Do  you  say  that  these  denunciations 
are  too  severe  ?  But  "  certain  even  of  your  own  poets,"  — 
and  poetry  is  often  the  soundest  philosophy  —  have  portrayed 
the  human  conscience  as  uttering  denunciations  just  as  severe. 
Do  you  say  that  the  law  as  written  in  the  Bible  is  too  un- 
pitying  ?  But  "  certain  of  your  own "  philosophers  have 
described  the  law  of  conscience  as  just  so  unpitying.  Do 
you  say  that  the  language  imputed  to  Jehovah  in  the  Bible 


272  CONSCIENCE. 

is  too  terrific  ?  But  one  argument  for  that  language  is  that 
the  poets  and  sages  in  all  lands  and  all  times  have  repre- 
sented the  conscience  as  developing  itself  in  the  same  terrific 
way.  Moral  science  is  in  unison  with  the  Bible.  The  depths 
of  one  correspond  with  the  depths  of  the  other.  Experience 
has  proved  that  the  biblical  methods  of  portraying  the  divine 
justice  in  regard  to  sin  are  the  most  impressive  methods  of 
portraying  it,  and  the  milder  methods  are  like  globules  of 
quicksilver  rolling  over  a  plate  of  glass.^  When  an  objector 
says  that  the  threatenings  of  inspired  men  are  to  be  regarded 
as  mere  Oriental  hyperbole,  he  overlooks  the  controversial 
dialogue  that  is  kept  up  between  the  monitor  of  duty  and 
the  heart  "  desperately  wicked."  He  overlooks  the  fact  that 
some  of  the  mysteries  of  revelation  have  their  counterpart 
in  the  mysteries  of  the  human  will  choosing,  whenever  it 
can  choose,  either  the  right  or  the  wrong.  He  is  like  the 
child  who  is  looking  upon  a  chronometer  as  a  gilded  watch- 
toy,  and  does  not  know  that  its  inward  machinery  is  all 
alive,  the  mainspring  hard  at  work,  wheel  striking  upon 
wheel,  the  almost  invisible  chain  pulling  and  drawing  strongly 
upon  its  pivot,  and  all  is  industry  and  busy  movement,  and 
there  is  no  rest  day  nor  night;  and  well  would  it  be  for 
man  if  the  constant  play,  the  action  and  reaction  of  his 
moral  powers  were  as  well  conformed  to  the  law  of  his  being 
as  the  movements  of  a  watch  are  conformed  to  the  law  of  its 
mechanism. 

While  we  marvel  at  the  rapidity,  we  marvel  still  more  at 
the  tenacity,  of  the  moral  sense.  Its  law  is  to  reaffirm  here- 
after the  decisions  which  it  makes  now.  From  its  own 
nature,  without  a  revelation,  we  cannot  surely  infer,  but  we 
are  prepared  to  believe, "  that  every  idle  word  that  men  shall 
speak,  they  shall  give  account  thereof  in  the  day  of  judgment." 
The  very  nature  of  conscience  predisposes  us  to  accept  the 
word  of  its  Author,  that  he  "  will  bring  to  light  the  hidden 

'  See  p.  168  sq.  above. 


CONSCIENCE.  273 

tilings  of  darkness,  and  make  manifest  the  counsels  of  the 
hearts."  ^ 

The  inherent  tendency  of  the  powers  belonging  to  a  moral 
agent  makes  it  not  at  all  improbable  that  he  will  ultimately 
recover  his  knowledge  of  all  the  moral  phenomena  which  he 
knows  now  or  ever  did  know.     The  stars  of  heaven  are  in- 
visible by  day,  but  they  are  not  lost ;  they  will  reappear  at 
night.     Conscience  has  been  compared  to  a  penman  writing 
with   sympathetic   ink,  taking   note   of  every   delinquency, 
recording  words  which  will  become  distinctly  visible  at  some 
exposure  to  the  light  or  heat  of  a  fire.    Our  books  of  philoso- 
phy have  made  us  familiar  with  various  phenomena  of  resus- 
citated knowledge.     We  have  read  of  the  man  who  had  been 
absent  thirty  years  from  his  native  land,  had  entirely  for- 
gotten his  vernacular  language  ;  but  all  at  once,  lying  on  his 
sick  bed,  he  began  to  speak  fluently  in  the  words  which  had 
before  altogether  escaped  his  remembrance.    We  have  read  of 
the  student  who,  on  recovering  from  a  fever,  was  found  to  have 
lost  the  acquisitions  which  he  had  made  at  school.     He  began 
to  relearn  his  Latin  grammar,  and  after  reacquiring  the  ele- 
ments, and  beginning,  as  if  in  a  second  childhood,  to  construe 
simple  phrases,  suddenly,  in  an  instant,  he  regained  his  lost 
attainments,  and  he  found  himself  to  have  received  back,  by 
one  opening  of  his  mind,  all  the  knowledge  which  seemed  to 
have  escaped  him.     We  have  heard  of  an  unlettered  servant 
"  who  could  neither  read  nor  write  "  ;  but,  suddenly  and  to 
the  surprise  of  all,  began  to  repeat  Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Latin 
sentences,  just  as  they  stand  in  the  Hebrew  Bible,  or  in  the 
works  of  the  Jewish  E-abbis,  or  of  the  Greek   and   Latin 
fathers.     It   was   found   that   this   unlettered    servant   had 
listened  several  years  before  to  the  loud   reading  of  these 
Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Latin  sentences  ;  and,  without  under- 
standing a  single  word  of  them,  had   hidden  them  in  the 

1  See  Matt.  xii.  36;  1  Cor.  iv.  5.    See  also  Eom.  ii.  16  ;  1  Cor.  iii.  13-15; 
2  Cor.  V.  10,  etc. 


274  CONSCIENCE. 

recesses  of  her  mind  and  reproduced  them  after  they  had 
been  long  forgotten.^ 

There  are  striking  instances  of  persons  who  have  heard 
the  words  of  a  Christian  preacher  and  have  neither  under- 
stood them  nor  reflected  upon  them,  until  at  some  con- 
juncture of  events  the  words  and  their  meaning  have  flashed 
upon  the  pre\aously  forgetful  mind  and  resulted  in  its 
renewal.  History  and  science  may  unite  with  the  gospel 
in  animating  the  faithful  pastor  with  a  hope,  that  although 
the  impressions  which  he  makes  may  appear  to  be  blurred 
and  illegible  for  a  season,  yet  they  may  not  be  entirely 
effaced,  and  may  at  some  future  time  shine  out  suddenly 
with  a  radiance  which  will  continue  forever.  Many  of  us 
have  heard  of  the  Indian  preacher  who,  before  his  sixth  year, 
was  accidentally  thrown  into  the  company  of  Christians,  and 
listlessly  heard  them  converse  on  the  atonement  of  Christ ; 
but  he  soon  left  them,  and  spent  his  remaining  childhood,  his 
boyhood,  his  early  manhood,  in  heathenism,  and  for  a  long 
time  had  forgotten  that  he  ever  heard  of  an  atonement ;  but 
on  a  sick  bed  all  these  strange  sounds  of  his  childhood  came 
striking  again  upon  his  ears  ;  those  words  were  reillumined 
before  his  almost  glazed  eye ;  he  imagined  he  had  almost 
received  a  miraculous  revelation  from  the  long-forgotten 
Messiah  —  that  he  was  converted  like  one  of  old,  who  said, 
"  At  midday  I  saw  a  light  from  heaven,  above  the  bright- 
ness of  the  sun,  shining  round  about  me."  That  was  no 
miracle,  save  as  the  soul  of  man  is  susceptible  of  a  preter- 
natural influence  which  has  the  semblance  of  a  miracle. 
Tliat  was  no  miracle  ;  that  was  memory  awaking  like  a  giant 
refreshed  from  his  slumbers,  and  drawing  back  the  knowledge 
which  seemed  to  have  fled  past  all  redemption.  That  was 
memory  rousing  up  the  conscience  from  a  lengthened  torpor 
to  a  new  vigor.  That  was  conscience  testifying  "  of  sin  and 
of  righteousness  and  of  judgment,"  and  disclosing  the  need 
and  the  power  of  the  atonement. 

1  See  Note  E,  at  the  end  of  the  sermon,  p.  295  sq. 


CONSCIENCE.  275 

Tlie  ancient  sculptor  engraved  the  letters  of  his  own  name 
on  the  marble  pediment  of  the  column,  and  then  covered  the 
letters  with  plaster  on  which  he  engraved  the  name  of  the 
monarch  for  whom  the  column  was  reared ;  so  that  when 
time  had  worn  away  the  stucco  covering,  the  name  of  the 
monarch  was  lost,  and  the  name  of  the  sculptor  shone  forth 
cut  in  the  rock  forever.  Thus  enduring  will  be  the  decisions 
of  the  moral  sense.  Every  vain  excuse  which  now  hides 
them  from  view  is  like  the  stucco  covering  that  will  soon 
crumble  away,  and  these  decisions  will  reappear  engraved  on 
the  soul  forever. 

We  have  read  of  a  prisoner  who  disturbed  the  silence  of 
his  fellow-culprits  at  dead  of  night  by  a  loud  groan  in  his 
cell.  His  keepers  ran  to  him  and  inquired  the  cause  of  his 
sudden  agony.  '  Twenty  years  ago,'  he  replied,  '  I  was  a 
sailor,  and  in  a  storm  was  sent  up  to  the  mast-head,  and  the 
sails  flapped,  and  the  mast  rocked,  and  I  was  perplexed  and 
enraged,  and  I  cursed  God  ;  and  for  twenty  years  I  had  not 
thought  of  that  curse,  and  now  it  has  come  back  to  me ; 
and  it  is  all  over  witli  me,  for  I  prayed  for  vengeance  on 
myself,  and  I  am  undone.'  Conscience  had  treasured  up 
that  sin,  and  brought  it  out  in  the  black  and  dark  night. 
This  is  her  law;  her  judgments  so  soon  and  so  long  for- 
gotten are  still  preserved  in  the  depths  of  the  soul.  We 
speak  of  them  as  buried  there  ;  but  they  will  have  their 
day  of  resurrection.  The  great  day  of  judgment  is  the 
day  of  departed  thoughts  risen  from  the  dead.  When  the 
trumpet  shall  sound,  then  shall  be  lifted  up  the  super- 
incumbent mass  under  which  the  iniquities  of  preceding 
time  may  have  lain  buried,  and  these  iniquities  will  rise 
up  an  exceeding  great  army.  What  was  condemned  once 
will  be  condemned  again  and  yet  again.  Witliout  an 
atoning  act  of  the  God-man  the  remorse  which  exists  at 
any  time  would  exist  at  all  times.  The  mystery  of  redemp- 
tion is,  tliat  it  can  appease  so  fearful  a  power  as  the  human 
conscience. 


276  CONSCIENCE. 

"  O  treacherous  Conscience !  while  she  seems  to  sleep 
On  rose  and  myrtle,  lulled  with  eiren  song ; 
While  she  seem?,  nodding  o'er  her  charge,  to  drop 
On  headlong  Appetite  the  slackened  rein, 
And  give  us  up  to  license,  unrecaUed, 
Unmarked,  —  see,  from  behind  her  secret  stand, 
The  sly  informer  minutes  every  fault, 
And  her  dread  diary  with  horror  fills. 
Not  the  gross  act  alone  employs  her  pen; 
She  reconnoitres  Fancy's  airy  band. 
A  watchful  foe;  the  formidable  spy, 
Listening,  o'erhears  the  whispers  of  our  camp, 
Our  dawning  jiurposes  of  heart  explores, 
And  steals  our  embryos  of  iniquity. 
As  all-rapacious  usurers  conceal 
Their  doomsday-book  from  all-consuming  heirs, 
Thus,  with  indulgence  most  severe,  she  treats 
Us  spendthrifts  of  inestimable  time ; 
Unnoted,  notes  each  moment  misapplied ; 
In  leaves  more  durable  than  leaves  of  brass 
Writes  our  whole  history,  which  Death  shall  read 
In  every  pale  delinquent's  private  ear, 
And  judgment  pubUsh  —  publish  to  more  worlds 
Than  this,  and  endless  age  in  groans  resound  1 
Lorenzo,  such  that  sleeper  in  thy  breast; 
Such  is  her  slumber,  and  her  vengeance  such 
For  slighted  counsel ;  such  thy  future  peace ; 
And  think'st  thou  still  thou  canst  be  wise  too  soon?" 

3.  The  activity  and  tenacity  of  the  moral  sense  suggest 
the  idea  of  its  authority  and  power.  Under  the  phrase 
authority  of  conscience  is  included  not  only  its  right  to 
govern,  but  its  attempt  to  exercise  this  right.  It  has  a  just 
claim  to  Ijc  the  ruling  faculty ;  it  says,  "  Thou  shalt."  The 
very  notion  of  duty,  the  meaning  of  ought,  suggests  the 
notion  of  empire.  We  say  that  authority  resides  in  a  polit- 
ical senate,  but  conscience  is  the  primitive  legislature  of  the 
race.  It  has  authority  also  as  the  judge  of  the  moral  being ; 
and  a  judge  constitutionally  so  true  that  the  great  God,  wha 
is  to  be  mentioned  only  with  awe,  appeals  to  its  trustworthy 
bench,  even  deigns  to  be  tried  before  it,  and  asks,  "  Are  not 


CONSCIENCE  277 

my  ways  equal  ?"^  Though  it  is  uusafe  to  unite  in  a 
political  magistrate  the  legislative  and  judicial  functions, 
they  are  not  only  blended  together  in  the  conscience,  but  a 
third  office,  the  executive,  is  superadded  to  them.  Political 
magistrates  do  not  reward  the  obedient,  but  only  punish  the 
disobedient.  This  moral  magistrate  is  liberal  in  it?  promises 
of  reward,  fearfully  profuse  in  its  threatenings  of  penalty. 
Nor  does  it  merely  promise  ;  it  makes  the  virtuous  expect  a 
reward,  and  he  who  hopes  for  a  good  enjoys  that  good  in  his 
very  anticipation.  Nor  docs  it  merely  threaten;  it  makes 
the  vicious  expect  a  punishment,  and  he  who  fears  an  evil 
suffers  that  evil  in  his  very  fear.  Nor  is  this  the  only  mode 
in  which  the  moral  faculty  executes  its  own  laws.  It  imparts 
a  pleasure  to  some  that  is  the  elixir  of  life,  and  a  pain  to 
others  that  drinketh  up  the  spirit. 

Nor  is  it  enough  to  say  that  conscience  has  authority ;  it 
has  a  predominant  authority  over  all  the  other  principles  of 
our  nature.  The  eye  has  authority  over  objects  of  vision, 
and  the  touch  can  never  go  out  of  its  sphere  and  dispute 
the  ocular  judgment  on  a  question  of  color.  The  ear  has 
authority  in  regard  to  the  objects  of  hearing,  and  when  it 
has  condemned  one  note  as  harsh  the  eye  cannot  rise  up  and 
impugn  the  decision.  Now,  conscience  is  placed  over  the 
voluntary  movements  of  all  the  other  powers ;  they  are  its 
subjects,  just  as  sounds  are  suljjccts  of  the  ear,  sights  of  the 
eye.  Conscience  determines  when  and  how  far  the  eye  or 
ear,  intellect  or  fancy,  or  any  other  principle  shall  be  grati- 
fied. The  imagination  has  no  more  right  to  resist  a  com- 
mand of  conscience  than  the  taste  has  to  gainsay  a  report 
of  the  memory.  What  if  we  do  choose  to  obey  an  appetite 
rather  than  the  moral  sense  ?  We  naturally  feel  that  in  such 
a  choice  we  have  committed  treason.  The  conscience  is 
willing  to  receiAC  aid  from  all  the  subordinate  powers  —  for 
where  is  the  emperor  that  has  not  his  counsellors  and  nobles  ? 
but  it  may  rightly  disdain  control  from  any  other  principle. 

1  Ezek.  xviii.  29. 


278  CONSCIENCE. 

What  if  it  is  not  an  independent  ruler ;  what  if  all  its  power 
is  delegated,  and  it  stands  a  vicegerent  of  God  ?  Yet  is  it 
absolute  in  its  decisions,  and  recognizes  no  appellate  juris- 
diction on  earth.     So  great  is  the  authority  of  conscience. 

By  the  power  of  the  faculty  we  mean  not  only  its  endeavor 
to  exercise  authority,  but  its  actual  exercise  of  it,  its  influence. 
Its  power  comes  from  its  authority.  There  is  no  rightful 
claimant  of  a  throne  but  has  some  influence,  even  though  he 
be  denied  his  regal  seat ;  else  why  is  he  feared  and  imprisoned, 
and  his  honor  tarnished  ?  Man  is  so  made  that  the  voice  of 
injured  majesty  does  not  sound  in  his  ear  like  the  song  of  a 
drunkard.  But  the  power  of  conscience  is  something  more 
than  a  cry  from  an  imprisoned  monarch.  It  sooner  or  later 
succeeds  in  its  essays  to  affect  the  soul.  A  criminal  may 
escape  the  sheriff,  and  hide  himself  in  the  wilderness ; 
but  the  dreariest  solitude  is  the  poorest  refuge  possible  from 
the  preying  of  remorse.  The  criminal  feels  exempt  from 
danger  of  the  civil  law  when  darkness  covers  the  earth  ;  but 
the  thickest  darkness  is  the  worst  covert  conceivable  from 
the  hauntings  of  a  guilty  conscience.  Neither  height  nor 
depth  can  long  separate  a  sinner  from  it.  It  is  a  remark  of 
Plato  that  if  we  could  examine  the  heart  of  a  king  we  should 
find  it  full  of  scars  and  black  wounds  ;  for  no  slave  has  ever 
been  lashed  by  his  master  more  than  a  king's  heart  by  his 
conscience. 

"  I  once  met  on  the  sea-shore,"  said  the  Eastern  poet  Sadi, 
"  a  pious  man  who  had  been  attacked  by  a  tiger,  and  was 
horribly  mutilated.  He  was  dying,  and  suffering  dreadful 
agonies  ;  nevertheless,  his  features  were  calm  and  serene, 
and  his  physical  pain  seemed  to  be  vanquished  hj  the  purity 
of  his  soul.  '  Great  God,'  said  he,  '  I  thank  thee  that  I  am 
only  suffering  from  the  fangs  of  the  tiger,  and  not  of 
remorse.'  "  For  remorse  in  its  very  definition  is  an  eating 
upon  the  soul,  a  gnawing  again  upon  it,  and  there  is  no 
strength  whicli  can  long  endure  this  reiterated  pain. 

Mr.  Fordyce  narrates  the  history  of  an  opulent  and  inllu- 


CONSCIENCE.  279 

ential  judge,  whose  duty  it  became  to  pass  sentence  upon  a 
servant  that  had  just  been  tried  for  murdering  his  master. 
As  the  spectators  were  waiting  for  the  sentence  the  judge 
arose,  placed  himself  by  the  side  of  the  prisoner,  and  confessed 
that  thirty  years  before,  in  a  distant  region,  he  had  been  a 
servant,  liad  taken  the  life  and  the  property  of  his  master, 
and  by  means  of  that  property  had  secured  his  present  station 
and  influence  ;  and,  though  he  had  never  been  suspected  of 
the  crime,  he  importuned  his  colleagues  on  the  bench  so  to 
interpose  that  they  miglit  condemn  him  now,  in  his  old  and 
honorable  age,  to  the  death  which  his  youthful  sin  demanded. 
This  is  one  of  the  peculiar  workings  of  the  moral  faculty ;  it 
often  welcomes  punishment ;  it  will  not  rest  without  a  full 
measure  of  retributive  suffering;  it  makes  the  guilty  man 
hasten  to  his  woe,  just  as  the  waters  of  the  river  seem  to 
hurry  onward  to  reach  the  cataract.  In  numerous  cases  the 
remorseful  man  described  in  the  drama  seems  intent  on 
feeling  a  still  deeper  remorse,  and  to  have  an  almost  insane 
hankering  after  a  just  recompense  from  others.  This  is 
often  the  impelling  cause  of  suicide.  "  So  writhes  the  mind 
remorse  hath  riven."  It  is  this  which  leads  men  to  see  and 
to  feel  that  there  can  be  no  remission,  unless  there  be  a 
"  Lamb  of  God  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world." 

4.  Wliile  considering  the  authority  and  power  of  conscience 
we  are  naturally  led  to  consider  its  influence  over  our  re- 
ligious belief.  There  arc  many  truths  which  men  appear  to 
disbelieve,  which  they  think  that  they  do  disbelieve,  but 
which,  after  all,  are  secretly  forced  upon  their  faith  by  this 
inward  monitor  of  truth,  as  truth  is  involved  in  duty. 

The  moral  faculty  leads  us  to  believe  in  the  existence  of 
God.  It  requires  a  spirit  of  reverence  for  the  true  and  the 
good,  and  it  is  this  spirit  which  guides  the  mind  into  theism. 
It  contains  adaptations  of  means  to  the  noblest  ends,  and 
thus  rc'-cals  the  adapting  cause.    It  develops  itself  in  processes 


280  CONSCIENCE. 

which  cannot  be  fully  and  fairly  interpreted  except  as  im- 
plying the  existence  of  a  personal  Creator  and  a  moral  Ruler. 
When  conscience  teaches  that  we  ought  to  do  right  we 
rationally  interpret  it  as  expressing  a  command  to  do  right ; 
but  it  expresses  this  command  by  compulsion  ;  hence  we 
infer  that  there  is  a  compelling  Cause,  a  personal  Commander, 
who  uncompelled  gives  his  own  mandate  in  the  imperative 
act  of  our  moral  faculty ;  and  we  rationally  interpret  his 
mandate  as  implying  that  he  wills  our  holy  obedience  to 
him.  So  soon  as  conscience  teaches  that  we  ought  to  do 
right,  it  teaches  also  that  we  are  under  an  obligation  to  some 
autliority  above  us,  and  it  anticipates  that  if  we  violate  this 
obligation  to  do  right  we  shall  be  punished.  Here  we 
rationally  interpret  the  conscience  as  threatening  our  punish- 
ment ;  but  it  is  compelled  to  express  this  threat ;  hence  we 
infer  that  there  is  a  compelling  Cause,  a  personal  Menacer, 
who  uncompelled  makes  our  conscience  the  vehicle  for  giving 
his  own  menace  ;  and  we  rationally  interpret  his  menace  as 
implying  his  holy  will  that  we  abstain  from  doing  wrong. 
As  we  interpret  the  workings  of  our  moral  faculty  to  be  a 
command  and  a  threat,  so  we  interpret  them  to  be  a  law. 
They  contain  distinctive  elements  of  a  moral  law.  They  are 
authoritative  in  requiring  us  to  act  in  one  way  and  not  in 
another  way.  They  exert  an  influence  prompting  and 
quickening  the  will  to  act  in  the  legal  way,  and  to  abstain 
from  acting  in  the  illegal  way.  They  lack,  however,  one 
distinctive  clement  of  a  moral  law ;  they  are  not  the  workings 
of  a  person,  for  conscience  is  not  a  person.  We  say  that  it 
is  a  lawgiver,  but  it  works  by  compulsion  ;  hence  we  infer 
that  it  has  a  compelling  Cause,  a  personal  Lawgiver ;  and  we 
rationally  interpret  his  action  upon  our  conscience  as  imply- 
ing his  holy  choice  that  we  do  what  conscience  requires,  and 
abstain  from  doing  what  conscience  forbids.  We  speak  of 
other  lawgivers,  but  he  is  the  original  one ;  he  gives  what  is 
his  own ;  he  gives  first,  and  others  repeat  what  they  have 
received  from  him.     We  are  justified  in  saying  that  Moses 


CONSCIENCE.  281 

was  a  lawgiver,  although  he  only  rehearsed  what  had  been 
given  to  him ;  for  he  testifies  :  "  The  Lord  delivered  unto  me 
two  tables  of  stone  written  with  the  finger  of  God."  ^  We 
speak  of  other  lawgivers ;  but  the  Lord  is  the  voluntary 
Giver,  and  he  has  involuntary  representatives.  We  are  jus- 
tified in  saying  that  the  conscience  of  men  is  a  lawgiver,  for 
it  is  a  sign  of  what  its  maker  has  given ;  for  men  show  "  the 
work  of  the  law  written  in  their  hearts,  their  conscience 
bearing  witness  therewith."''^  From  the  writing  we  infer 
the  existence  of  the  writer ;  and  "  it  is  he  that  hath  made  us, 
and  not  we  ourselves."  The  poet  says  :  "  Man's  conscience 
is  the  oracle  of  God."  As  from  the  nature  of  the  oracles 
termed  the  Scriptures  we  infer  that  they  have  an  author  who 
has  made  the  Scriptures  his  law,  so  from  the  nature  of  the 
oracle  termed  conscience  we  infer  that  it  has  an  author  who 
has  made  the  conscience  his  law.  This  inference  is  made  the 
more  imperative  by  the  authority  of  the  moral  sense  to  demand 
that  justice  be  done  ;  to  insist  that  he  who  merits  a  reward 
and  he  who  merits  a  penalty  shall  receive  all  that  is  merited. 
We  have  an  innate  tendency  to  believe  that  the  constitu- 
tional demand  of  the  moral  faculty  is  right,  and  that  the 
constitution  of  the  universe  is  right,  and  that  the  two  are  in 
unison  with  each  other.  Hence  we  have  an  innate  tendency 
to  believe  that,  as  justice  ought  to  be  administered,  so  in  fact 
it  will  be  administered ;  and  this  implies  that  it  will  in  fact 
be  administered  by  a  person  who  does  what  ought  to  be  done, 
who  expresses  to  the  conscience  of  men  his  complacency  of 
conscience  in  their  holy  choice,  and  his  displacency  of  con- 
science in  their  sinful  choice.  Our  moral  faculty  demands 
that  which  implies  the  existence  of  a  just  God.  It  impels  us 
to  anticipate  his  decisions.  If  this  faculty  is  right,  he  exists. 
If  he  does  not  exist,  our  moral  faculty  is  wrong. 

As  the  processes  of  the  moral  faculty  are  movements  to- 
wai'd  the  doctrine  of  the  divine  existence,  so  they  are  move- 

1  Deut.  ix.  10  ;  Ex.  xxxi.  18.  2  Rom.  ii.  15. 


282  CONSCIENCE. 

ments  toward  the  doctrine  of  the  soul's  future  existence. 
The  soul  acts  on  the  principle  that  its  constitutional  demands 
are  right.  One  of  its  constitutional  demands  is,  that  sin  be 
punished  as  it  deserves  to  be  ;  thsrefore  it  will  be  punished  as 
it  deserves  to  be ;  but  it  is  not  thus  punished  in  this  life ;  then 
there  will  be  a  future  life  in  which  the  demand  of  conscience 
for  punishment  will  be  fulfilled.  Again,  the  soul  acts  on  the 
principle  that  its  constitutional  anticipations  are  right,  and 
will  be  verified.  One  of  its  constitutional  anticipations  is, 
that  sin  will  receive  the  punishment  which  is  deserved  and 
demanded  ;  but  it  does  not  receive  this  punishment  in  the 
present  world ;  then  there  will  be  a  future  world  in  which 
the  anticipations  of  conscience  will  be  verified.  Many  a  man 
has  boasted  of  certain  arguments  by  which  he  could  prove 
that  there  will  be  no  future  existence  ;  but  he  has  feared 
that  there  will  be  one,  notwithstanding  all  his  arguments. 

"  I  am  willing  to  confess,"  said  an  unbeliever,  "  that  the 
superstitions  of  the  nursery  cling  to  me  even  yet,  and  when- 
ever my  body  is  weak  I  am  a  prey  to  my  old  childisli  fears ; 
but  I  am  recovering  from  my  imbecility."    "  Am  recovering," 

—  but  he  never  recovered.     "  Superstitions  of  the  nursery," 

—  they  begin  early  and  continue  late.  "Childish  fears,"  — 
they  are  the  result  of  instincts  planted  in  the  childhood  and 
the  manhood  and  the  old  age  of  a  human  being,  in  the  very 
nature  of  the  human  soul.  We  admit  that  a  man  may  bend 
and  strain  his  conscience  into  a  narrow  circle,  as  he  may 
bend  and  strain  the  bow,  which  springs  back  again  with  an 
augmented  force,  and  infixes  the  arrow  so  much  the  more 
deeply. 

One  of  the  English  infidels  always  wrote  against  the  doc- 
trine of  immortality  as  if  he  were  shuddering  in  fear  of  it ; 
and  in  his  autobiography  he  endeavored  to  explain  away  his 
predisposition  to  tremor  and  dark  forebodings  by  describing 
the  weakness  of  his  nervous  system,  and  referring  this  weak- 
ness to  a  shock  wliich  he  received  in  the  early  part  of  his 
life.     But  that  shock  which  he  received  in  the  early  part  of 


CONSCIENCE.  283 

liis  life  was  the  presage  of  the  shock  that  was  never  to  be 
quieted;  and  that  "weakness  of  the  nervous  system"  was 
the  tremulousness  of  a  man  whose  will  was  at  war  with  his 
constitutional  instincts.  Such  a  man  is  contending  not  with 
his  conscience  alone,  but  with  its  Maker  also.  It  is  very 
true  that  he  is  apt  to  have  '  a  weakness  of  the  nervous  system 
coming  from  a  shock  which  he  received  in  the  early  part  of 
his  life ' ;  for  he  began  to  sin  in  the  early  part  of  his  life, 
and  his  conscience  began  to  reproach  him  in  the  early  part 
of  his  life  ;  and  even  Juvenal  has  said  that  "  the  guilty  are 
alarmed  and  turn  pale  at  the  slightest  thunder."  ^ 

It  is  intimated  in  the  preceding  remarks  that  our  moral 
faculty  leads  us  to  believe  in  the  necessity  of  an  atonement 
for  sin.  It  perceives  that  transgressors  of  the  law  deserve 
punishment,  and  it  demands  that  they  receive  what  they 
deserve.  Desert,  —  it  is  an  idea  formed  by  the  noblest  of 
our  mental  powers  !  Ill-desert,  —  it  is  an  idea  filling  us  with 
awe!  The  demand  of  conscience, — it  involves  the  idea  of 
law  as  authoritative,  of  government  as  founded  in  the  depths 
of  the  human  soul !  The  retributive  justice  exercised  by  our 
moral  Ruler  toward  men  who  transgress  his  law  is  his  choice 
to  comply  with  his  illimitable  and  unerring  conscience  in  the 
infliction  of  the  penalty  which  is  both  deserved  and  de- 
manded.2  i^  \^  ^  majestic  attribute.  Viewing  ourselves  as 
transgressors,  we  expect  to  be  arraigned  before  it.  "We  fear 
it,  not  because  it  contains  any  one  element  which  ought  not 
to  be  there,  nor  because  it  fails  to  contain  any  one  clement 
which  ought  to  be  there,  but  because  it  unites  with  itself  the 
demand  of   an  infinite  and  pure  conscience,  and  because  it 

1  "  Hi  sunt  qui  trepidant,  et  ad  omnia  fulgura  pallent." 

-  As  the  liolincss  of  mercy  consists  in  it  as  a  choice,  but  blends  with  itself  an 
involuntary  sentiment,  —  a  constitutional  pity,  so  the  holiness  of  retributive 
justice  consists  in  it  as  a  choice,  but  blonds  with  itself  an  involuntary  senti- 
ment, —a  demand  of  conscience.  This  is  sometimes  called  the  retributive  sen- 
timent, and  is  the  body  united  with  the  choice  which  is  the  soul  of  the  virtue. 
See  Note  on  p.  176  sq.  above. 


284  CONSCIENCE. 

reminds  us  of  our  offences  against  it.  A  heathen  poet  has 
said  that  "  conscience  is  a  thousand  witnesses."  ^  These 
witnesses  will  testify  of  our  oifences,  but  do  not  now  remem- 
ber one  in  a  thousand  of  them.  Still,  thej  point  us  forward 
to  the  Judge  who  will  bring  to  light  the  hidden  things  of 
darkness.  Our  unaided  reason  discovers  no  method  in  which 
he  can  withhold  the  expression  of  his  displacency  in  vieTr  of 
our  sin.  That  expression  will  involve  our  punishment.  Our 
unaided  reason  discovers  no  metliod  in  which  our  own  con- 
science can  be  prevented  from  feeling  remorse  in  view  of  our 
sin.  That  remorse  will  be  involved  in  our  punishment.  Our 
unaided  reason  warns  us  that  our  final  Judge  will  by  no 
means  clear  the  guilty.  Its  normal  presumption  is  that  jus- 
tice will  be  done.  Still,  our  unaided  reason  cannot  limit  the 
treasures  of  infinite  wisdom.  It  confesses  that  there  may  be 
some  principle  on  which  he  who  made  our  consciences  can 
free  them  from  their  merited  remorse.  He  may  know  a 
method  of  grace ;  but  our  consciences  tell  us  of  law,  of  ill- 
desert,  of  justice,  and  they  predict  no  relief.  As  the  great 
mystery  is  not  how  sin  can  be  allowed  to  exist  forever,  but 
how  it  was  ever  allowed  to  begin,  so  the  great  mystery  is  not 
how  God  can  punish  sin  forever,  but  how  he  can  ever  pardon 
it.  We  can  only  wait  for  him  to  solve  the  mystery.  He  has 
solved  it  in  the  cross  of  Christ.  We  accept  its  teaching,  that 
without  the  shedding  of  blood  on  that  cross  there  can  be  no 
remission.  Without  the  efficacy  of  that  cross,  expressing  in 
the  pain  of  our  substitute  the  displacency  of  his  Father  toward 
our  sin,  that  displacency  must  have  been  so  expressed  to  us 
as  to  awaken  our  own  compunction  and  remorse.  The  more 
carefully  we  examine  our  own  consciences,  and  the  more 
keenly  we  feel  their  judicial  influence,  so  much  the  more 
clearly  do  we  perceive  that  the  deepest  mystery  of  our  moral 
life  lies  hidden  in  the  words  that  God  is  just,  and  the  Justi- 
fier  of  them  who  believe  in  Jesus. 

1  "  Conscientia  mille  testes."  —  Juvenal.     Shakespeare  says  :  "  Conscience  is 
a  thousand  swords." 


CONSCIENCE.  285 

There  are  other  doctrines  against  which  many  a  man  has 
argued  while  he  could  not  avoid  either  a  hope  or  a  fear  that 
they  were  true.  The  pertinacity  of  his  moral  sense  in  cleaving 
to  these  doctrines  has  induced  him  to  re-examine  his  array 
of  argument  and  reach  a  conclusion  harmonizing  his  reason- 
ings with  his  moral  sentiments.  The  minister  of  the  gospel 
may  press  these  doctrines  upon  the  conscience  of  his  hearers 
with  the  assurance  that  it  will  approve  what  the  sinful  heart 
opposes,  and  that  sooner  or  later  men  will  recognize  their 
hidden  faith  in  what  they  openly  attempt  to  disprove.  Their 
conscience  is  his  ally.  "  The  strength  of  the  hills  is  his 
also." 

We  have  heard  of  mariners  sailing  over  the  Caribbean  sea, 
and  imagining  that  they  hear  the  ringing  of  bells  on  the 
sunken  islands.  There  are  truths  lying  low  down  in  the 
minds  of  men, —  truths  seeming  to  be  forgotten  or  willingly 
kept  out  of  sight,  and  yet  ever  and  anon  sending  up  obscure 
and  mysterious  voices,  echoing  and  re-echoing  in  the  ear  of 
conscience,  which  is  said  to  hear  their  slightest  whisper.  So 
a  victim  of  vice  awakes  at  night  sometimes,  and  thinks  that 
he  hftars  the  sound  of  his  mother's  prayers  as  they  went  up 
for  him  in  his  childhood.  The  hopes  and  fears,  the  imagina- 
tion and  the  memory  and  the  judgment,  are  all  quickened  by 
the  conscience  reigning  while  it  seems  to  be  deposed. 

5.  The  preceding  topic  suggests  the  truth  that  the  moral 
faculty  and  the  spiritual  character  of  men  act  and  react  on 
each  other. 

The  spiritual  character  exerts  an  obvious  influence  on  the 
moral  faculty.  If  our  elective  preferences  be  in  harmony 
with  the  dictates  of  our  moral  guide ;  if  they  be  ready  and 
quick  in  responding  to  its  gentlest  whisper,  then  is  the  con- 
science refined  and  invigorated.  Its  rule  is  the  more  dcci- 
sive  as  it  is  the  more  promptly  obeyed  ;  its  judgments  are  the 
more  emphatic  as  they  are  the  more  highly  esteemed.  But 
if  the  spiritual  feelings  rebel  against  their  inward  director ;  if 


286  CONSCIENCE. 

the  decisions  of  conscience  be  unheeded  or  openly  opposed,  it 
begins  to  pronounce  its  judgments  more  faintly,  and  to  abate 
the  force  of  its  reproofs.  Conscience  is  a  queen  who  casts 
not  her  costliest  pearls  before  the  ungrateful.  At  first  she 
calls  aloud,  saying  "  This  is  the  way,  walk  ye  in  it "  ;  but 
when  the  man  whom  she  has  warned  passes  by  the  right  way, 
and  will  not  walk  therein,  she  is  apt  to  speak  in  a  lower  and 
lower  tone,  and  at  last  to  turn  back  her  face  and  let  the  way- 
ward traTcller  go  on  as  he  has  blindly  chosen,  regardless  of 
her  still  continued,  but  almost  stifled,  murmurings.  Like 
her  great  archetype  in  the  heavens,  she  does  not  strive  nor 
cry,  neither  is  her  voice  heard  in  the  noisy  streets.  Hence 
the  danger  of  resisting  her  first  monition.  Hence  the  cauter- 
izing effect  of  the  first  sin.  It  indurates  the  sensibility  to 
virtue,  and  sometimes  the  moral  power  is  weakened  so  as  not 
to  be  completely  restored  until  death.  When  the  conscience 
and  the  heart  begin  their  dialogue,  the  one  saying,  "  Thou 
shalt  go  "  ;  the  other  saying,  "  I  will  not "  ;  the  one  sitting 
in  majesty  upon  her  throne  ;  the  other  smiling  and  flattering 
and  importuning  —  that  is  a  fearful  moment.  If  the  heart 
prevail,  then  the  sceptre  of  the  monarch  is  taken  away,  the 
lustre  of  her  dominion  is  destroyed,  and  perhaps  she  never 
resumes  her  full  authority  in  this  world.  In  the  language 
of  an  injured  queen,  she  exclaims,  "  I  cannot  endure  to  sit 
upon  a  throne  tarnished  by  my  enemies.  Ye  have  robbed 
me  of  my  paternal  jewel  and  broken  the  diamond  ring  of  my 
mother ;  and  I  hide  my  face  not  in  shame,  but  in  grief,  and 
I  beseech  you  to  trouble  me  no  more."  This  is  the  policy 
of  our  moral  sense  :  when  her  laws  are  trampled  under  foot, 
and  the  shield  of  the  mighty  is  vilely  cast  away,  she  retires 
beyond  all  distinct  and  remembered  consciousness  for  a 
season,  and  at  last,  when  her  hour  is  come,  she  gathers  up 
all  her  energies,  and  reasserts  her  rights  with  her  recovered 
sceptre,  and  with  a  more  awing  and  imposing  mien.  When 
the  soul  is  unguarded  and  bereft  of  all  consolation,  then  does 
conscience  invade  it  with  its  teri'ors.     Be  careful,  then,  my 


CONSCIENCE,  287 

fellow-sinner,  if  thou  be  uuhumbled  for  transgression,  that 
thou  never  fall  into  calamity ;  for  that  is  the  time  for  the 
rising  of  the  power  which  comes  forth,  when  it  does  come, 
resistless  as  an  army  with  banners.  Be  careful  that  thou 
never  leave  the  dry  land  ;  for  peril  broodcth  on  the  waters, 
and  conscience  finds  her  opportunity  in  the  storm.  Be  care- 
ful that  thou  journey  not  by  the  railway,  for  there  danger  is 
ever  lurking  ;  and  guard  against  thy  death-bed,  for  where  the 
dying  sinner  is  there  are  the  eagles  of  conscience  gathered 
together. 

Thou  fool !  Tliat  which  thou  sowest  is  not  quickened  ex- 
cept it  die ;  and  that  reproof  of  conscience  which  lies  now 
buried  in  forgetfulness  will  therefore  rise  again  invigorated 
by  its  long  slumber.  Be  not  deceived.  Conscience  is  not 
mocked.  Whatever  thou  sowest,  that  shalt  thou  also  reap. 
Thou  goest  forth  rejoicing  and  scattering  the  seeds  of  sin, 
but  thou  shalt  come  back  again  with  weeping  and  bringing 
thy  sheaves  with  thee.  Thou  goest  forth  carelessly  sowing 
the  wind,  but  thou  shalt  come  back  again  affrighted,  reaping 
the  whirlwind. 

As  the  spiritual  and  social  affections  act  upon  the  con- 
science, so  does  conscience  act  upon  them.  It  imparts 
courage  and  fortitude  to  the  virtuous  man.  He  can  live  and 
smile  tliough  preyed  on  by  vultures.  "  Thrice  is  he  armed, 
that  hath  his  quarrel  just."  He  expects  to  conquer,  and 
knows  that  though  his  enemies  come  against  him  like  the 
trees  of  the  forest,  the  spirits  that  befriend  him  are  numerous 
as  the  leaves  on  those  trees.  It  has  been  said  by  infidels  that 
the  spirit  of  the  New  Testament  unnerves  the  soldiers  on  the 
battle-field.  The  reverse  is  the  truth  if  the  soldiers  are  in 
a  righteous  conflict.  The  pulpit  arms  them  for  their  duty. 
The  prayer  of  the  chaplain  dispels  their  fear.  Their  con- 
science assures  them  that  virtue  will  prevail  at  last,  and  that 
guardian  angels,  if  need  be,  will  combat  on  their  side. 

A  guilty  conscience  is  the  occasion  of  new  vices.     "  Tlie 


288  CONSCTENCE. 

wicked  flee  when  no  man  pursueth,  but  the  righteous  are 
bold  as  a  lion."  ^  Bishop  Patrick  in  his  comment  on  this 
Proverb  says  :  "  An  evil  conscience  makes  men  timorous 
and  cowardly,  like  a  faint-hearted  soldier  who  runs  away  at 
the  appearance  of  an  enemy,  and  never  so  much  as  looks 
back  to  see  whether  he  pursue  him."  When  soldiers  have 
a  reproving  conscience  "  the  sound  of  a  shaken  leaf  shall 
chase  them."  ^  As  the  man  who  has  no  peace  in  the  domes- 
tic circle  is  driven  for  refuge  to  the  haunts  of  vice,  so  he  who 
has  no  peace  in  his  own  bosom  is  apt  to  become  an  outcast  in 
morals.  The  Bible  describes  such  men  as  "  past  feeling," 
"self-condemned,"  their  "mind  and  conscience  are  defiled," 
'  they  bear  a  brand  on  their  own  conscience,' "  the  brand, 
the  stigma,  which  marks  them  as  debased.  On  the  night 
when  a  thousand  lords  were  assembled,  and  the  sackbut  and 
the  dulcimer  were  regaling  the  ear,  and  the  choicest  viands 
were  pressing  down  the  tables,  and  the  golden  and  silver 
vessels  from  Jerusalem  were  brought  in  to  grace  the  feast, 
there  appeared,  as  if  to  crown  the  whole,  an  opening  upon 
the  plaster  of  the  wall,  and  that  beautiful  piece  of  mechanism, 
a  man's  hand,  came  through,  and  wrote  words  full  of  liquid 
sounds.  And  why  were  not  all  pleased  with  the  delightful 
exhibition  ?  Adam  in  Paradise  would  have  been  pleased 
with  it.  Why  did  the  lords  overthrow  their  tables,  and  rush 
over  each  other  from  the  scene  ?  Why  do  we  read  the  signifi- 
cant words :  "  The  king's  countenance  was  changed,  and  his 
thoughts  troubled  him,  so  that  the  joints  of  his  loins  were 
loosed,  and  his  knees  smote  one  against  another  "  ?  *  The 
sweetest  wine  at  a  banquet  is  a  good  conscience  :  but  a  sense 
of  guilt  will  turn  cordials  into  wormwood,  and  a  man's  hand 
or  an  unmeaning  word,  soft  as  "  mene,  mene,"  will  discom- 
pose kings  and  nobles.  If  we  wish  a  friend  who  will  stand 
by  our  side  at  the  hour  of  peril,  whose  very  features  will 
cheer  us  by  their  moral  beauty,  let  us  look  for  one  who  has  a 

^  Prov.  xxviii.  1.  ^  Lev.  xxvi.  17,  36. 

»Eph.  iv.  19;  Titas  i.  15;  iii.  11  ;  1  Tim.  iv.  2.  *  Dan.  v.  1-9. 


CONSCIENCE.  289 

sustaining  sense  of  rectitude,  "  a  pure  conscience,"  a  "  good 
conscience,"  "  a  conscience  void  of  offence,"  '  a  conscience 
cleansed  from  dead  works  bj  the  blood  of  Christ,'  '  a  heart 
sprinkled  from  an  evil  conscience.'  ^  His  thoughts  revolve 
in  a  circle  of  which  the  central  point  is  the  atoning  sacrifice, 
and  the  radii  of  the  circle  are  the  beams  of  the  divine  glory, 
and  along  these  radiant  lines  his  love  and  faith  are  ever  at- 
tracted to  the  centre  of  his  peace  and  joj.  He  will  not  be 
terrified  by  the  remembrance  of  his  sins ;  for  the  cross  has 
manifested  the  divine  displacency  toward  them,  and  has  re- 
moved the  necessity  that  he  endure  the  remorse  which  justice 
once  required.  His  conscience  testifies  that  the  King  who 
'  bore  the  sins  of  men  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree '  deserves 
to  be  rewarded  with  a  crown  of  which  penitent  men  are  the 
jewels.  On  that  tree  the  law  and  the  justice  and  the  holiness 
of  God  were  honored  as  much  as  they  could  have  been 
honored  by  the  penalties  which  they  had  threatened.  There- 
fore the  divine  conscience  and  the  human  conscience  are 
satisfied,  while  the  threatened  woes  do  not  fall  upon  the 
believer.  Therefore  "  the  chamber  where  the  good  man  meets 
his  fate "  is  the  scene  where  conscience,  purified  by  the 
Redeemer's  sacrifice,  displays  her  most  benignant  power  and 
makes  him  the  most  magnanimous,  brave,  and  happy  man. 
In  the  most  perilous  den  the  believer  need  not  fear,  for  his 
Redeemer  has  stopped  the  mouth  of  the  lions.  In  the  heated 
furnace  he  goes  unharmed,  because  the  Son  of  God  goes  with 
him.  "  Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil ;  for  thou  art  with  me  ;  thy  rod 
and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me."  Even  when  his  reason  has 
forsaken  him,  and  he  is  left  to  breathe  out  his  life  in  the 
dreariness  of  insanity,  conscience  will  often  fly  into  the 
deserted  halls,  and  like  the  nightingale  will  cheer  the  dark- 
ness with  her  glad  tune.  And  if  this  be  the  joy  of  a  good 
man  through  his  hour  of  suffering,  what  shall  be  his  triumph 

1  Acts  xxiv.   16;  1  Tim.  i.  5,19;  iii.  9;  2  Tim.  i.  3;  Ileb.  ix.  14;  x.  22; 
xiii.  18;  1  Pet.  iii.  16,  21. 


290  CONSCIENCE. 

in  heaven  ?  And  if  the  conscience  of  a  saint  will  pour  floods 
of  peace  through  his  system,  what  conception  shall  we  form 
of  the  conscience  of  an  angel  ?  And  if  we  are  baffled  in  our 
attempts  to  imagine  the  ecstasies  of  a  seraph's  joy,  how  does 
the  restless  fancj  sink  down  exhausted  when  it  has  aspired 
after  one  glimpse  of  the  happiness  of  God, —  the  Creator  who 
is  indebted  for  his  excellence  to  no  other  being,  and  to  whom 
all  other  beings  are  indebted  for  all  the  excellence  they  pos- 
sess ;  the  infinite  mind,  whose  conscience  is  infinite  in  strength 
and  compass,  and  requires  that  his  character  be  loved  with 
supreme  love  because  this  love  is  strictly  deserved,  and 
cannot  be  withheld  without  absolute  injustice.  If  a  man  is 
made  stable  by  his  assurance  of  being  in  the  right,  God  who 
is  ever  in  the  right  must  be  immutable  !  If  a  man  is  saved 
from  slavish  fear  because  he  has  returned  to  the  path  marked 
out  by  his  conscience,  then  God  who  has  never  once  deviated 
from  the  way  prescribed  by  an  infinite  conscience  must  be 
an  independent  Sovereign !  If  in  a  believer's  heart  there  is 
a  fountain  of  peace,  then  in  Jehovah  there  must  be  an  ocean 
of  blessedness  ! 

But  here  occurs  one  thought,  the  most  marvellous,  per- 
haps, that  ever  entered  the  human  mind :  There  has  been 
one  exception  to  this  great  law  of  conscience,  and  it  has 
perplexed  the  wise  and  prudent  of  the  world,  and  has  been 
revealed  to  babes.  The  most  vigorous  conscience  that  man 
ever  possessed  was  once  unable  to  give  its  possessor  his 
rightful  gladness  of  heart.  When  he  was  encompassed  with 
sorrows,  and  his  visage  more  marred  than  the  sons  of  men, 
his  conscience  came  to  his  rescue,  plied  all  its  energies, 
greater  than  any  human  energies,  and  worked  to  the  last 
without  giving  an  emotion  of  joy.  As  an  eagle  spreadeth 
abroad  her  wings  and  fluttereth  over  her  young,  and  would 
fain  bear  them  up,  so  conscience  would  have  cheered  the 
spirit  of  the  Sufferer,  as  he  was  lifted  between  heaven  and 
earth,  and  forsaken  of  both.     She  pointed  him  to  the  demo- 


CONSCIENCE.  291 

niacs  he  had  tamed,  and  the  sick  he  had  healed ;  she  brought 
forward  the  woman  that  had  been  bowed  down  with  an 
infirmity,  and  was  now  standing  erect  before  him.  The 
newly  married  i)air  from  Cana  cam3  and  smiled  upon  him. 
At  the  summons  of  his  conscience  all  those  whom  lie  had 
raised  from  the  dead  hastened  to  greet  him.  Jairus  led  for- 
ward his  blooming  daughter  to  grace  the  halls  of  his  memory. 
That  only  son  who  rose  from  the  funeral  bier  to  comfort  his 
w^idowed  mother  rose  up  now  to  comfort  his  and  her  friend. 
Lazarus,  the  brother  of  Martha  and  Mary,  presented  himself, 
—  and  "behold  how  he  loved  him."  Each  brought  a  cup  of 
blessing  for  him,  but  when  he  had  tasted  of  their  consolations 
he  would  not  drink.  "I  thirst,"  he  cried,  "It  is  finished"  ; 
and  he  yielded  up  the  ghost  without  giving  a  single  sign  of 
a  single  emotion  of  joy.  Surely  if  conscience  has  power,  it 
must  have  cheered  that  man  of  sorrows,  or  else  he  could  not 
have  had  the  sorrows  of  a  mere  man.  It  must  be  that  his 
conscience  was  called  to  unheard-of  toils,  and  to  wrestle  with 
principalities  and  powers  of  evil,  or  it  had  not  been  foiled  of 
its  high  prerogative  to  cheer  the  guiltless  soul.  It  must  be 
that  the  comfort,  flowing  from  the  recollections  of  a  life  so 
beautiful  in  being  so  well  spent  as  his,  was  refused  by  him  in 
order  that  when  we  bear  our  daily  cross  we  may  be  filled 
with  joy  at  the  thought  of  his  grace,  rather  than  with  remorse 
at  the  thouglit  of  our  guilt.  It  must  be  that  he  bore  our 
sins  and  took  upon  him  our  iniquities  in  order  that  our  con- 
science may  be  lighted  up  with  smiles,  and  may  stand  by  our 
death-bed  as  an  angel  holding  up  the  lamp  of  hope,  and  veri- 
fying the  words  of  the  scientist :  "  Conscience  is  a  sparkle  of 
the  purity  of  man's  first  estate,  and  therefore  will  never  die 
away,  but  by  the  grace  of  Heaven  shall  be  fanned  into  a  flame 
that  shall  ever  cause  the  redeemed  to  shine  even  as  the  stars 
that  smile  upon  us  from  on  high." 


292  CONSCIENCE. 


I^TOTES. 


Note  A,  to  Page  261. 

In  this  discourse  the  word  "  conscience  "  is  explained  in  accordance 
with  its  predominant  use  in  the  writings  of  English  and  American 
philosophers  and  preachers.  "  Of  late  years,  and  by  the  best  writers, 
the  term  conscience,  and  the  phrases  moral  faculty,  moral  judgment, 
faculty  of  moral  perception,  moral  sense,  susceptibility  of  moral 
emotion,  have  all  been  applied  to  that  faculty  or  combination  of 
faculties  by  which  we  have  ideas  of  right  and  wrong  in  reference  ta 
actions,  and  correspondent  feelings  of  approbation  and  disapproba- 
tion." (See  Calderwood's  edition  of  Fleming's  Vocabulary  of  Phi- 
losophy, pp.  102-104.)  What  Dr.  Fleming  calls  a  "combination" 
may  be  called  an  "assemblage  of  various  powers  and  sensibilities," 
with  their  appropriate  impulses.  See  "  The  Works  of  Joseph  Butler, 
LL.D.,"  Vol.  i.  p.  340,  ii.  p.  53  (Cambridge  ed.),  1827  ;  "  Works 
of  Dr.  Thomas  Reid"  (Hamilton's  edition).  Vol.  ii.  pp.  594,  592  ; 
-  Works  of  Dugald  Stewart,"  Vol.  v.  pp.  160,  161,  Vol.  iii.  pp. 
423-434. 

Note  B,  to  Page  264. 

Throughout  this  eleventh  sermon  the  well  known  distinction  is 
made  between  the  nature  of  the  merit  belonging  to  our  holiness  and 
of  the  demerit  belonging  to  our  sin.  The  merit  is  the  merit  of 
congruity,  the  demerit  is  the  demerit  of  condignity.  Conscience 
perceives  that  our  right  acts  deserve  no  reward,  in  the  full  and  strict 
sense  of  desert,  when  they  are  viewed  as  the  payment  of  a  just  debt 
antecedently  due  to  our  Creator,  Preserver,  Benefactor,  and  Moral 
Governor.  As  he  has  qualified  us  to  perform  the  right  acts,  and 
loaded  us  with  favors  for  which  we  owe  him  allegiance,  he  is 
under  no  obligation  in  retributive  justice  to  reward  that  allegiance. 
On  the  other  hand,  conscience  perceives  that  our  wrong  acts  deserve 
a  punishment  not  only  when  they  are  viewed  as  simply  wrong,  but 
also  when  they  are  viewed  as  refusals  to  pay  the  just  debt  antecedently 
due  to  our  Creator,  Preserver,  Benefactor,  and  Moral  Governor, 


CONSCIENCE.  293 

As  he  has  endued  us  with  all  our  powers,  he  has  a  just  claim  that 
they  be  devoted  entirely  to  him,  and  we  have  no  claim  on  his  retri- 
butive justice  for  a  reward.  Our  right  acts  would  have  fully  and 
strictly  deserved  a  reward  if  they  had  been  perfect,  and  had  not 
been  previously  due  as  payments  of  a  just  debt,  but  as  our  Moral 
Governor  has  merely  loaned  us  our  powers  in  order  that  we  may 
use  them  for  his  service,  we  can  fully  and  strictly  deserve  no  reward 
for  paying  him  what  we  owe  (See  Luke  xvii.  7-10).  The  cele- 
brated Unitarian  divine,  Rev.  James  Martineau,  has  vividly  expressed 
the  truth  that  acts  of  obedience  to  God  do  not  on  the  whole  deserve, 
so  as  to  justly  claim,  a  reward  from  him.  Dr.  Martineau  says: 
"  Christianity  annihilates  merit,  not  by  reducing  obligation  to  nothing, 
but  by  raising  it  to  infinitude."  "  It  renders  it  impossible  for  our 
performance  .ever  to  overlap  and  exceed  the  [divine]  claims  upon 

our  will All  good  that  is  not  impossible  is  a  thing  now  due, 

and  is  to  be  performed,  not  like  eye   service  unto  men,  but  as   to 

God Beyond  his  acknowledged  rights  we  can  never  go  so  as 

deserve  anything   of   him The   successive  moments  as  they 

pass  are  the  counters  of  his  [God's]  constant  payment,  which  we 
can  neither  reckon  nor  refuse,  but  only  hasten  to  seize  and  to  employ. 
And  so  it  is  impossible  for  us  ever  to  overtake  his  advances.  With 
our  fastest  speed  they  fly  before  us  still,  like  the  shadow  which  his 
light  behind  us  casts,  only  lengthening  as  we  go,  till  it  stretches  over 
the  brink  of  time  and  covers  the  abyss  of  eternity."  "•  Endeavors 
after  the  Christian  Life,"  pp.  362,  363  (Am.  ed.),  1876. 

These  remarks  answer  the  question  why,  on  pages  279-285  no 
mention  is  made  of  our  right  acts  as  affording  a  proof  of  the  existence 
of  God,  and  of  the  future  existence  of  man ;  and  why  our  wrong 
acts  are  mentioned  as  prompting  a  belief  in  those  doctrines.  The 
sermon  implies  that  all  acts  which  are  entitled  on  the  ground  of  their 
intrinsic  and  independent  merit  to  be  recompensed  must  receive  their 
just  recompense.  Such  are  the  acts  of  the  God-man  (Seep.  179). 
As,  however,  the  acts  of  mere  men,  and  especially  of  men  who  have 
been  sinners,  are  not  intrinsically  and  independently  meritorious, 
our  conscience  does  not  recognize  them  as  making  a  demand  on 
retributive  justice  for  a  reward.  Therefore  in  this  relation  they 
do  not  necessitate  a  belief  in  the  divine  existence  and  in  human 
immortality. 


294  CONSCIENCE. 

Note  C,  to  Page  265. 

The  seventh  exercise  of  conscience  is  differently  expressed  by 
different  authors.  By  some  it  is  said  to  be  a  belief  or  expectation 
or  fear  that  the  deserved  punishment  will  be  inflicted.  By  others 
it  is  said  to  be  the  stimulating  of  the  mind  to  believe,  expect,  or  fear 
that  the  punishment  will  follow  the  sin.  If  there  be  a  fear  there  is 
some  degree  of  expectation,  and  if  there  be  any  degree  of  expectation 
there  is  some  degree  of  belief.  Bishop  Butler  seems  to  prefer  the 
word  "  anticipate  "  to  the  word  "  expect."  After  alluding  to  the 
sentence  of  conscience  against  iniquity,  he  says  that  conscience  "  if 
not  forcibly  stopped,  naturally  and  always  of  course  goes  on  to 
anticipate  a  higher  and  more  effectual  sentence  which  shall  hereafter 
second  and  affirm  its  own"  (Works,  Vol.  ii.  p.  53,  Am.  ed.  1827). 
Dr.  Thomas  Reid  says  that  a  man  who  has  done  wrong" "  is  conscious 
of  demerit,  and  cannot  avoid  the  dread  of  meeting  with  its  reward  " 
("  Hamilton's  Reid,"  Vol.  ii.  p.  594).  Dugald  Stewart  says  :  "  The 
feelings  of  remorse  which  accompany  the  consciousness  of  guilt,  in- 
volve, in  like  manner,  a  sense  of  ill-desert  and  an  anticipation  of 
future  punishment"  (Works,  Vol.  iii.  p.  432,  Am.  ed.).  In  popular 
literature  we  see  the  condemning  conscience  described  as  the  light- 
ning which  forebodes  the  thunder;  as  the  avant  courier  pre-announcing 
the  final  Judge. 

Note  D,  to  Page  270. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  that  a  distinct  volition  precedes 
every  distinct  movement  of  the  fingers  and  the  vocal  organs  of  the 
musician.  Some  suppose  that  many  of  these  movements  are  auto- 
matic, either  in  the  sense  of  being  performed  by  the  mysterious 
power  of  the  brain  working  independently  of  the  will,  or  by  the 
equally  mysterious  power  of  habit  working  on  the  nervous  system 
without  mental  interference.  Others  suppose  that  the  musician 
puts  forth  a  distinct  but  unconscious  volition  for  every  physical  move- 
ment, and  that  at  some  future  time  each  volition  may  possibly  be 
called  up  from  the  plane  of  unconsciousness,  and  he  may  be  conscious 
of  remembering  the  acts  which  he  had  not  been  conscious  of  per- 
forming. In  this  country  a  more  common  theory  has  been  that,  for 
instance,  the  musician  puts  forth  a  distinct  and  conscious  volition  for 
every  distinct  movement  of  his  muscles,  but  forgets  the  larger  part 


CONSCIENCE.  295 

of  his  volitions  as  soon  as  they  have  been  performed.  A  modificatioii 
of  this  theory  is,  that  he  puts  forth  a  distinct  volition  for  everv 
distinct  series  of  connected  movements,  but  not  for  every  one  of  the 
movements.     There  are  many  reasons  in  favor  of  this  modification. 

Note  E,  to  Page  274. 

There  are  hundreds  of  instances  appi-oximating  more  or  less 
nearly  to  those  given  above,  and  proving  that  the  soul  will  some- 
times call  to  mind  those  of  its  acts  which  were  forgotten  soon  after 
they  were  performed,  and  which  had  remained  utterly  forgotten 
during  a  period  of  ten,  twenty,  or  thirty  years.  In  regard  to  the 
narrative  alluded  to  on  page  273,  Mr.  S.  T.  Coleridge  remarks : 

"  This  authenticated  case  furnishes  both  proof  and  instance  that 
reliques  of  sensation  may  exist  for  an  indefinite  time  in  a  latent 
state,  in  the  very  same  order  in  which  they  were  originally  impressed  ; 
and  as  we  cannot  rationally  suppose  the  feverish  state  of  the  brain 
to  act  in  any  other  way  than  as  a  stimulus,  this  fact  (and  it  would 
not  be  difficult  to  adduce  several  of  the  same  kind)  contributes  to 
make  it  even  probable  that  all  thoughts  are  in  themselves  imperish- 
able ;  and  that  if  the  intelligent  faculty  should  be  rendered  more 
comprehensive,  it  would  require  only  a  different  and  apportioned 
organization,  the  body  celestial  instead  of  the  body  terrestrial,  to  bring 
before  every  human  soul  the  collective  experience  of  its  whole  past 
existence.  And  this,  this,  perchance,  is  the  dread  book  of  judgment, 
in  the  mysterious  hieroglyphics  of  which  every  idle  word  is  recorded  ! 
Yea,  in  the  very  nature  of  a  living  spirit,  it  may  be  more  possible 
that  heaven  and  earth  should  pass  away  than  that  a  single  act,  a 
single  thought,  should  be  loosened  or  lost  from  that  living  chain  of 
causes,  with  all  the  links  of  which,  conscious  or  unconscious,  the 
free-will,  our  only  absolute  self,  is  co-extensive  and  co-present.  But 
not  now  dare  I  longer  discourse  of  this,  waiting  for  a  loftier  mood 
and  a  nobler  subject,  warned  from  within  and  from  without  that  it  is 
profanation  to  speak  of  these  mysteries  '  to  those  to  whose  imagina- 
tion it  has  never  been  presented  how  beautiful  is  the  countenance  of 
justice  and  wisdom ;  and  that  neither  the  morning  nor  the  evening  star 
is  so  fair.  For  in  order  to  direct  the  view  aright  it  behooves  that 
the  beholder  should  have  made  himself  congenerous  and  similar  to 
the  object  beheld.     Never  could  the  eye  have  beheld  the  sun,  had 


296  CONbCIENCE. 

not  its  own  essence  been  soliform  [i.e.  preconfigured  to  light  by  a 
similarity  of  essence  with  that  of  light]  neither  can  a  soul  not 
beautiful  attain  to  an  intuition  of  beauty  '  "  ("  The  Complete  "Works 
of  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,"  Vol.  iii.  pp.  230,  231,  Am.  ed.).  The 
quotation  in  the  last  ten  lines  is  given  by  the  editor  in  Greek  from 
Plotinus  (Enn.  L,  Lib.  vi.  ss.  4  and  9).  For  the  opinions  of  philoso- 
phers on  the  rapidity  of  mental  action  see  (among  other  works) 
Locke's  "  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding,"  chap.  ix. ;  Dugald 
Stewart's  "  Elements  of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,"  chap, 
ii. ;  Sir  William  Hamilton's  "  Lectures  on  Metaphysics  and  Logic," 
Lecture  xviii. 


XII. 

mnUENCES  AFFECTING  TEE  CHARACTER  OF 
CHRIST  CONSIDERED  AS  A  MAN. 


LUKE    II.    62. 
AJTD  JXS0B  ADVAITOBD  IH  VTISDOII  AITD  STATURE,  AND  ITX  FAVOB  ■WTTH  OOD  AND  SIEIT. 

In  the  Old  Testament  we  read  that  "the  child  Samuel 
grew  on,  and  was  in  favor  both  with  the  Lord,  and  also  with 
men."  In  the  New  Testament  we  read  that  the  child  "  Jesus 
advanced  in  favor  with  God  and  men."  In  his  first  chapter 
Luke  informs  us  of  John  the  Baptist  that  "  the  child  grew, 
and  waxed  strong  in  spirit."  In  his  second  chapter  he  in- 
forms us  of  Jesus  the  Redeemer,  "  and  the  child  grew,  and 
waxed  strong."  Such  coincidences  of  style  contain  volumes 
of  thought.  They  illustrate  the  truth  that  our  Redeemer  was 
once  a  real  and  proper  child ;  he  thought  as  a  child,  he  felt 
as  a  child,  he  acted  as  a  child,  he  was  ignorant,  he  learned, 
and  he  remembered  as  a  child ;  he  did  not  take  hold  of 
angels,  but  he  took  hold  of  men,  the  seed  of  Abraham; 
"  wherefore  it  behoved  him  in  all  tilings  to  be  made  like 
unto  his  brethren."  As  he  grew  in  stature  and  made 
progress  in  knowledge,  so  he  advanced  in  virtue.  Knowledge 
and  virtue  are  wisdom.  Wisdom  is  sure  to  gain  the  favor 
of  God,  and  is  apt  in  the  final  event  to  gain  the  favor  of 
man.  "  And,"  says  our  text,  "  Jesus  advanced  in  wisdom 
and  stature,  and  in  favor  with  God  and  men."  Ilcnce  we 
learn  that  he  was  educated.  We  infer  that  he  was  educated 
not  merely  during  his  childhood,  but  also  during  his  man- 


298  INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A   MAN. 

hood.  As  his  character  was  formed,  so  t  must  have  been 
formed  by  some  influences.  What  were  the  forces  that 
shaped  his  mental  and  moral  course  ?  We  do  not  know  all 
the  powers  by  which  his  spirit  was  affected ;  but  we  may 
detect  some  of  them ;  and  it  is  the  aim  of  the  present  dis- 
course to  consider  a  few  of  the  external  influences  that 
formed  the  character  of  the  man  Christ  Jesus. 

Before  we  name  these  influences,  we  may  allude  to  the  fact 
that  persons  whose  minds  are  engrossed  with  the  thought 
of  Christ's  divinity  are  indisposed  to  hear  of  his  needing  to 
be  educated.  They  forget  that  although  he  was  God,  yet  ho 
was  also  man,  as  truly  the  Son  as  the  Lord  of  David,  as 
truly  needing  to  be  nourished  by  spiritual  food  in  order  that 
he  might  grow  in  wisdom  as  he  needed  to  be  nourished  by 
material  food  in  order  that  he  might  grow  in  stature.^  We 
may  also  allude  to  the  fact  that  persons  whose  minds  are 
absorbed  with  the  thought  of  Christ's  humanity  are  slow  to 
accept  the  intimations  of  his  being  mentally  superior  in  his 
early  life  to  his  companions.  These  men  fail  to  recognize 
the  influence  of  his  moral  perfection  upon  his  intellectual 
power.  They  forget  that  the  mental  dulness  of  our  race 
arises,  in  large  part,  from  sensuality,  and  that  the  mind  of 
Jesus  was  never  benumbed  by  a  disordered  appetite.  They 
forget  that  the  intellect  is  weakened  by  indolence  and  its 
kindred  habits,  is  confused  by  ambition,  envy,  jealousy,  and 
their  associated  impulses,  but  the  intellect  of  Jesus  was  un- 
trammelled by  any  form  of  selfishness.  His  virtue  was  not 
a  mere  freedom  from  sin,  but  was  a  positive,  energetic  holi- 
ness. As  his  perception  of  truth  was  never  blurred  by  seK- 
indulgence,  so  it  was  brightened  by  seK-denial.  When  we 
reflect  on  the  soporific  power  of  some  vices  and  the  mis- 
guiding power  of  others  :  on  the  stimulating  power  of  some 
virtues,  and  the  regulative  power  of  others,  we  find  it  difficult 
to  imagine  the  rapidity  of  a  man's  progress  in  knowledge 

'  See  Note  A,  at  the  end  of  the  sermon. 


INFLI7ENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A   MAN.  290 

when  he  has  never  been  stupefied  nor  misled  by  any  form 
of  sin,  but  has  been  animated  and  directed  by  every  form  of 
holiness.'  We  should  not  overestimate  the  biblical  hints  of 
Christ's  early  elevation  above  his  companions,  neither  should 
we  underestimate  them ;  still,  it  is  less  philosophical  to 
underrate  than  to  overrate  them.  The  influence  of  perfect 
holiness  upon  the  intellect  would  lead  us  to  conjecture  not 
that  he  made  smaller  attainments  in  knowledge,  but  that  he 
made  larger  attainments  than  we  have  positive,  historical 
proof  of  his  having  made.  It  would  predispose  us  to  inter- 
pret the  biblical  intimations  upward  as  pointing  to  his  mental 
pre-eminence,  rather  than  to  interpret  them  downward  as 
pointing  to  his  mental  mediocrity.  To  presume  that  his  im- 
maculate virtue  made  him  strong,  when  we  have  no  decisive, 
historical  evidence  of  his  weakness,  is  less  illogical  than  to 
presume  that  his  virtue  left  him  weak,  when  we  have  no 
decisive,  historical  evidence  that  he  was  strong.  Instead  of 
limiting  our  view,  as  in  this  discourse  we  do  limit  it,  to  the 
influences  out  of  himself  which  made  him  what  he  was,  we 
miglit  profitably  extend  our  view  to  the  influence  of  his  own 
free-will,  which  made  his  intellect  bright  and  vigorous.  His 
heart  educated  liis  mind  ;  his  moral  excellence  clarified  his 
intuitions.  To  him  that  hath  true  holiness  shall  be  given 
clear  knowledge.  But  in  this  discourse  we  are  to  consider 
not  so  much  the  forces  which  worked  upon  him  from  witliin, 
as  the  forces  which  worked  upon  him  from  without,  and  con- 
tributed to  the  formation  of  his  human  character. 

In  the  first  place,  his  character  was  affected  by  the  familiar 
occupations  and  arts  of   men.     Our   common  employments 

1  Some  biblical  critics  appear  to  think  that  the  opinions  of  tiic  man  Christ 
Jesus  in  regard  to  tiie  literature  of  the  Pentateuch,  of  the  Psalms,  etc,  are  not 
more  important  than  the  opinions  of  men  educated  as  modern  scholars  arc.  But 
his  opinions  were  formed  under  the  influence  of  a  perfect  will  which  pave  to  his 
intellect  a  perspicacity  unknown  to  modern  scholars.  The  unparalleled  health- 
fulncss  of  his  moral  feelings  must  have  given  an  unparalleled  quickness  and 
clearness  to  his  intuitions. 


300  INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A   MAN. 

may  associate  themselves  with  a  religious  or  a  worldly  train 
of  thought.  The  will  may  cherish  their  hallowed  suggestions, 
and  thus  make  the  habit  of  mind  a  pious  one ;  or  it  may 
favor  their  secular  associations,  and  thus  draw  away  the  heart 
from  the  channel  of  virtue.  A  volume  might  be  written  on 
the  ease  and  naturalness  with  which  our  Lord  rose  from  the 
material  to  the  spiritual.  He  prized  the  former  as  illustrating 
the  latter.  He  seldom  mentioned  either  the  facts  of  science 
or  of  history,  except  for  the  purpose  of  giving  point  to  some 
moral  truth. 

A  modern  traveller  through  Palestine  pitched  his  tent  by 
the  side  of  an  ancient  wine-press.  He  writes  :  '  On  the  upper 
side  of  a  ledge  of  rocks  a  shallow  vat  had  been  dug  out, 
eight  feet  square  and  fifteen  inches  deep  ;  on  the  lower  side 
of  the  rock  another  vat  had  been  excavated,  four  feet  square 
by  three  feet  deep.  The  grapes  were  trodden  in  the  large 
upper  vat,  the  juice  drawn  off  through  a  passage  still  re- 
maining into  the  small  lower  vat ;  and  such  is  its  state  of 
preservation  that  were  there  now  grapes  in  the  vicinity,  this 
ancient  wine-press  might  at  once  be  brought  into  use  without 
repair.'  This  was  an  interesting  scene  ;  and  what  reflections 
does  the  writer  append  ?  First,  this  proves  that  the  adjacent 
hills  were  once  covered  with  vineyards ;  secondly,  it  would 
Ijc  worth  much  to  transport  this  ancient  relic,  just  as  it  is,  to 
London.  These  reflections  were  not  inappropriate ;  they 
were  not  useless.  But  what  were  our  Saviour's  reflections  ? 
Perhaps  he  looked  upon  this  identical  wine-press.  Perhaps 
at  a  wine-press  just  like  this  he  learned  to  illustrate  the 
goodness  of  Jehovah,  sending  his  own  servants  to  the  spir- 
itual vineyard  which  he  had  planted ;  the  criminality  of  men 
who  beat  one  of  tlic  Lord's  ministers,  and  stoned  a  second, 
and  killed  a  third ;  the  grace  of  the  Most  High  in  providing 
an  atonement  for  those  murderous  husbandmen  ;  the  ingrati- 
tude of  the  persevering  vine-dressers,  who  exclaimed,  "  This 
is  tlie  heir;  come,  let  us  kill  him"  ;  the  justice  of  God,  who 
will   miserably   destroy  those   wicked   men.     "This   is  the 


INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A   MAN.  301 

Lord's  doing,  and  it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes."  ^  So  did  the 
Saviour  ascend  from  the  receptacle  of  the  grapes  and  the 
wine  to  the  mysteries  of  atoning  love.  And  so  was  his 
character  formed. 

A  tourist,  passing  a  few  days  at  Nazareth  in  the  month  of 
June,  and  finding  the  summer's  heat  intolerable  in  his  tent, 
accepted  an  invitation  to  make  his  abode  with  a  resident  of 
the  city.  '  Here,'  says  the  tourist,  '  we  found  the  rooms  of 
stone  much  cooler  than  our  tent.  In  order  to  lay  the 
foundations  of  the  house,  the  builder  had  dug  down  to  the 
solid  rock  to  the  depth  of  thirty  feet.'  It  is  the  common 
usage  at  Nazareth  to  excavate  the  foundations  until  the  rock 
underlying  the  earth  is  reached,  and  then  to  build  up  arches 
on  the  hard  stone.  This  was  the  ancient  custom.  Jesus, 
having  been  a  carpenter  at  Nazareth,  and  the  son  of  a 
carpenter,  was  often  called  to  notice  this  identical  method 
of  constructing  an  edifice.  It  may  have  suggested  to  his 
brothers  who  worked  with  him  nothing  more  than  an  in- 
genious piece  of  handicraft.  They  had  not  his  spiritual 
industry.  At  some  time  or  other,  it  connected  itself  in  his 
mind  with  the  secure  position  of  men  who  build  their  faith 
on  the  spiritual  corner-stone,  and  the  insecurity  of  men  who 
slight  this  rock  of  ages,  and  who,  without  a  foundation,  liave 
built  upon  the  earth,  and  the  rains  descend,  and  the  floods 
come,  and  the  winds  blow  and  beat  upon  the  house,  and  it 
falls,  and  the  ruin  of  that  house  is  great.^ 

If  a  friend  of  his  mother  had  lost  one  of  lier  ten  coins, 
each  not  more  than  fifteen  cents  in  value,  the  anxious  matron 
would  have  lighted  a  candle,  and  swept  her  house,  and 
searched  diligently  in  all  the  dark  cracks  of  the  floor ;  and 
as  soon  as  it  glistened  in  her  eye  she  would  have  sent  word 
to  his  mother  and  all  the  neighboring  families :  '  Rejoice 
with  me,  for  I  have  found  the  drachma  which  was  lost.' 
The  other  guests  at  that  festival  of  gratitude  might  have 
thought  of  nothing  beyond  the  sudden  exhilaration  of  the 

i  Matt.  xxi.  33-42.  ^  Luke  vi.  47-49 ;  Matt.  vii.  24-27. 


302  INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A   MAN. 

woman.  But  the  meditative  guest  at  that  joyful  table  had 
meat  to  eat  which  the  others  knew  not  of.  He  would  have 
treasured  up  in  his  heart  a  memento  of  the  scientific  fact 
that  the  loss  of  anything  fastens  the  mind  on  the  value  of 
that  particular  thing,  and  a  coin  when  repossessed  is  thought 
of  more  than  nine  equal  coins  that  have  never  been  out  of 
the  family  purse.  This  mental  phenomenon  would  have 
elevated  his  soul  to  the  moral  truth  that  when  a  man  who  was 
lost  is  found,  when  he  had  gone  astray  on  the  mountains  of 
sin,  but  has  now  come  back  to  his  Father's  house,  there  is 
joy  among  the  very  angels  of  God.  The  missing  of  a 
small  coin,  the  wandering  of  a  single  sheep  on  the  plain  of 
Esdraelon,  was  not  a  trifle  nor  a  mere  economical  event 
to  our  great  Teacher,  but  a  spiritual  stimulus,  raising  his 
mind  into  the  sublimity  of  the  presence  of  the  very  spirits 
of  heaven. 

When  the  child  stood  with  his  sisters  around  their  mother, 
and  saw  her  put  the  little  leaven  into  her  thirty  quarts  of 
meal,  he  was  learning  to  illustrate  tlie  truth  of  God,  which 
would  penetrate  the  entire  mass  of  humanity,  and  make  it 
fresh  and  elastic  and  healthful.  When  he  gazed  upon  the 
ploughman  making  straight  furrows  in  the  field,  and  there- 
fore not  looking  behind  him,  that  plough  turned  up  for  him 
a  symbol  of  the  truth  that  no  man  starting  on  a  Christian 
life  and  looking  back  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God.  When 
he  watched  the  farmer  scattering  the  seeds  over  tlie  fresh 
soil,  and  the  birds  of  the  air  alighting  on  the  ground  as  soon 
as  the  seeds  were  planted,  his  mind  garnered  up  for  itself 
illustrations  of  the  word,  which  bringeth  forth  thirty,  sixty, 
a  hundred-fold.  When  he  saw  two  women  sitting  down  in 
the  field,  and  grinding  corn  at  their  hand-mill,  he  caught 
the  inspiration  of  the  scene,  and  noted  the  sovereign  grace 
which  takes  one  sinner  and  leaves  another.  So  did  he  inter- 
lace the  homely  pursuits  of  life  with  processes  of  pious 
reflection.  He  took  tlic  form  of  a  servant  that  lie  might 
learn  wisdom  from  the  menial  lalxjrs  of  the  house  and  the 


INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A   MAN.  303 

field,  and  might  view  all  the  handiwork  of  men  and  women 
as  inwrought  with  secular  and  sacred  science. 

Secondly,  the  character  of  the  man  Christ  Jesus  was  in 
some  degree  moulded  by  the  influences  of  nature.  He  made 
the  skies  his  educators.  He  made  the  sunsets  his  books.  He 
put  himself  into  a  religious  school  when  he  ascended  a  hill-top, 
and  stood  there,  a  devout  and  reverent  observer  of  physical 
phenomena.  The  village  of  Nazareth,  where  our  Lord  spent 
the  first  thirty  years  of  his  life,  was  "  shut  in  on  all  sides  by 
fourteen  swelling  eminences  on  the  circling  mountains." 
'It  therefore  did  not  furnish  him  with  ample  prospects  of 
the  fields  and  the  seas.  But  a  walk  of  a  few  minutes  would 
afford  him  a  magnificent  panorama.'  Lamartine,  the  French 
revolutionist,  describing  his  ascent  to  one  of  the  eminences 
above  Nazareth,  has  written  :  '  God  alone  knows  what  passed 
in  my  heart  on  that  hill.  By  a  spontaneous,  and  as  it  were 
an  involuntary,  movement,  I  found  myself  on  my  knees  at 
the  feet  of  my  horse.  I  remained,  I  suppose,  several  minutes 
in  silent  contemplation,  wherein  all  the  thoughts  of  my  life, 
as  a  sceptic  or  as  a  Christian,  rushed  upon  me  with  such 
confusion  that  it  was  impossible  to  class  them.  These  words 
alone  escaped  my  lips  :  "  And  the  Word  was  made  flesh, 
and  dwelt  among  us."'  What  Lamartine  saw  on  these 
mountains  we  suppose  that  Christ  had  often  seen  on  these 
same  mountains.  What  this  French  traveller  there  recalled 
as  a  truth  of  history  Christ  may  have  prepared  himself  on 
these  same  mountains  to  foresee  as  a  truth  of  prophecy. 
'  From  these  very  hill-tops,'  says  another  tourist,  '  the  Prince 
of  Peace  doubtless  looked  down  upon  the  great  plain  of 
Esdraelon,  where  the  din  of  battles  so  oft  had  rolled,  and 
the  garments  of  the  warrior  had  been  dyed  in  blood ;  and  lie 
looked  out  upon  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  over  which  the  swift 
ships  were  to  bear  the  tidings  of  his  salvation  to  nations  and 
to  fjontinents  then  unknown.'  From  these  very  hill-tops  had 
he  looked  upon  Tabor,  Carmel,  Hermon,  Gilboa,  —  some  of 


304  INFLUENCES   ON    CHRIST   AS   A   MAN. 

them  surmounted  with  whitewashed  villages, — and  he  learned 
to  say :  '  Good  men  are  a  city  set  upon  a  hill.'  From  these 
very  summits  had  he  beheld  the  lightning  coming  out  of  the 
east  and  shining  even  unto  the  west ;  "  so  shall  the  coming 
of  the  Son  of  man  be."  From  these  very  hill-tops  had  he 
watched  the  clouds  as  they  moved  in  expressive  majesty 
across  the  skies  ;  so,  he  learned  to  say,  '  shall  all  the  tribes 
of  the  earth  mourn  when  they  shall  see  the  Son  of  man 
commg  in  the  clouds  of  heaven  with  power  and  great  glory.' 
He  made  the  flames  his  ministers,  brightening  religious 
truth.  If  he  noticed  a  meteor,  he  treasured  it  up  in  his 
mind :  '  So,'  he  afhrms,  '  I  beheld  Satan  as  lightning  fall 
from  heaven.'  If  he  saw  the  eagles  wheeling  around  the 
crags  of  the  mountains,  and  alighting  upon  some  lifeless 
prey,  he  learned  to  paint  his  enemies  as  the  loathsome  car- 
cass, and  around  them  shall  the  eagles  of  the  justice  of  God 
be  gathered  together. 

Nor  does  he  disdain  to  educate  himself  by  the  most  ordi- 
nary incidents.  "As  I  was  riding  across  the  plain  of  Akka" 
in  Palestine,  says  a  traveller,  and  many  recent  travellers 
have  witnessed  the  same,  "  I  perceived  what  seemed  to  be  a 
little  forest  or  nursery  of  trees.  I  found  it  to  be  a  forest  of 
the  mr.stard  plant,  in  full  blossom.  As  I  stood  and  wondered 
at  the  size  of  the  plant,  one  of  the  fowls  of  heaven  stopped 
in  its  flight  through  the  air,  alighted  on  one  of  its  branches, 
which  hardly  moved  beneath  the  shock,  and  then  began, 
perched  there  before  my  eyes,  to  warble  forth  a  strain  of 
the  richest  music."  That  beautiful  scene  was,  we  presume, 
presented  often  to  the  eye  of  Jesus,  and  it  was  a  lecture  on 
the  pure  religion.  His  truth  was  limited  then  to  a  small 
company,  was  like  to  a  grain  of  mustard  seed,  which  indeed 
is  the  least  of  all  seeds;  but  this  narrow  limit  shall  be 
passed,  and  '  this  seed  when  it  is  grown  shall  be  greater  than 
the  herbs  and  become  a  tree,  so  that  the  birds  of  the  air  shall 
come  and  lodge  in  the  branches  thereof.'  ^     Not  in  vain  did 

1  Matt.  xiii.  31,  32. 


INFLUENCES   ON    CHRIST   AS   A   MAN.  305 

he  listen  to  the  blowing  of  the  wind ;  that  was  a  symbol  of 
the  regenerating  Spirit.  Not  in  vain  did  he  look  out  upon 
the  harvest  of  wheat  and  tares  ;  that  was  a  sign  of  the  great 
and  fearful  harvest  of  souls,  and  the  reapers  arc  the  angels. 
Not  in  vain  did  he  gaze  at  the  vine  as  it  clambered  up  the 
terrace  ;  that  was  a  memento  of  the  joys  of  spiritual  brother- 
hood. Not  in  vain  did  he  look  at  the  foxes  fleeing  to  their 
retreats  among  old  ruins  or  in  tombs,  nor  at  the  birds  of 
of  the  air  adjusting  themselves  cheerfully  in  their  nests ; 
even  they  imaged  forth  the  atoning  love  of  him  who  had  not 
where  to  lay  his  head.  Not  in  vain  did  he  note  the  hen 
gathering  her  chickens  under  her  wings  ;  that  was  a  picture 
of  the  frailty  and  the  peril  of  his  foes,  and  of  his  own  readi- 
ness to  guide  and  guard  them.  The  hen,  the  field  bird,  the 
fox,  pictured  out  the  many-sided  glories  of  him  who  used  the 
greatest  as  well  as  the  least  of  the  very  orbs  of  heaven  to 
shadow  forth  his  excellence,  and  exclaimed  :  "  As  long  as  I 
am  in  the  world,  I  am  the  light  of  the  world." 

Thirdly,  the  character  of  the  man  Christ  Jesus  was  formed 
by  his  familiarity  with  the  Holy  Scriptures.  If  the  son  of 
Eunice  and  the  grandson  of  Lois  had  when  a  child  been 
instructed  in  these  Scriptures,^  much  more  may  we  suppose 
that  the  Son  of  Mary  was  thus  instructed.  The  children  of 
pious  Jews  became  familiar  in  their  schools  with  suggestive 
passages  in  the  Levitical  law.  As  this  instruction  was  given 
to  other  children,  we  may  well  suppose  that  it  was  given  to 
him  who  was  to  be  the  end  of  the  law  for  righteousness.*'^ 
He  probably  had  access  to  a  copy  of  the  Old  Testament  in 
the  synagogue  at  Nazareth.  Certain  parts  of  tliis  Testament 
may  have  been  owned  in  his  father's  house.  There  are  some 
reasons  for  supposing  that  the  whole  of  it  was  kept  there. 
He  may  have  been  attracted  to  it  by  his  interest  in  the 
scenes  of  nature.     The  man  who  has  a  wholesome  love  for 

1  2  Tim.  iii.  14,  15 ;  Acts  xvi.  1  ;  2  Tim.  i.  5. 
'^  liom.  X.  4 ;  Matt.  v.  17,  18 ;  Gal.  iii.  24. 


306  INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A   MAN. 

thes(3  scenes  gains  a  quickened  attachment  to  the  divine 
word.  A  traveller  in  Palestine  can  find  no  book  so  useful 
and  fascinating  as  the  Bible  for  directing  and  illustrating 
his  journey. 

'  As  I  was  leaving  Nazareth,'  says  a  tourist, '  and  surveying 
the  majestic  scenery  which  had  so  often  attracted  the  gaze 
of  the  Redeemer,  I  felt  how  natural  was  the  Psalmist's  per- 
sonification ;  his  language  springs  spontaneously  to  the  lips : 
"  The  north  and  the  south,  thou  hast  created  them ;  Tabor 
and  Hermon  shall  rejoice  in  thy  name."  '  The  same  tourist, 
when  near  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  '  saw  at  a  little  dis- 
tance a  shepherd  engaged  in  shearing  one  of  his  flock.  The 
animal  lay  stretched  before  him  on  the  ground,  submitting 
without  resistance  or  complaint  to  the  operation  he  was  per- 
forming. It  seemed  as  if  every  movement  of  the  shears 
would  lacerate  the  flesh  ;  the  feet  were  bound ;  the  man's 
knees  were  pressed  rudely  against  the  sides  of  the  helpless 
captive.  This  posture,  so  irksome,  had  to  be  endured  for  a 
considerable  time  before  the  ample  fleece  was  removed. 
Yet,  during  it  all,  it  was  wonderful  to  observe  how  patient 
the  creature  remained.  It  struggled  not,  opened  not  its 
mouth.'  ^  Can  there  be  any  doubt  that  Jesus  when  a  youth 
often  gazed  at  a  similar  spectacle  ?  When  he  observed  it 
may  he  not  have  pondered  again  and  again  on  these  sugges- 
tive words,  "  He  is  brought  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter,  and 
as  a  sheep  before  her  shearers  is  dumb,  so  he  openeth  not 
his  mouth "  ?  Every  timid  lamb  may  have  reminded  this 
thoughtful  boy  of  the  legal  sacrifices,  and  may  have  pre- 
pared him  to  hear  the  words  of  his  forerunner,  "  Behold  the 
Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world." 

A  child  feels  a  natural  interest  in  the  story  of  his  fore- 
fathers, and  especially  if  their  names  have  become  illustrious. 
From  his  earliest  boyhood,  then,  our  Lord  must  have  been 

1  In  1870,  near  the  time  which  is  observed  as  the  anniversary  of  the  Saviour's 
deaih,  and  near  the  very  spot  where  he  is  sup])oscd  to  have  suffered  on  the  even- 
ing before  his  death,  I  witnessed  a  scene  almost  exactly  like  that  which  is 
described  above. 


INFLUENCES   ON    CHRIST   AS   A   MAN.  SOT 

attracted  to  the  volume  which  was  oikj  shining  record  of  his 
own  progenitors.  These  progenitors  were  traced  with  pre- 
cision through  men  and  women  whose  exploits  were  fitted  to 
excite  the  enthusiasm  of  children. 

At  the  present  day,  when  travellers  visit  the  old  city  of 
Bethel  they  wander  to  the  rising  ground  not  far  from  the 
scene  of  Jacob's  vision,  and  identify  the  very  spot  where 
Abraham  parted  from  his  friend,  and  wdiere  the  modern, 
like  the  ancient,  travellers  '  lift  up  their  eyes  and  behold  all 
the  plain  of  Jordan,  that  it  is  well  watered  everywhere.'  ^ 
If  Jesus  ever  walked  over  those  acres  must  he  not  have 
received  a  new  impulse  to  reperuse  the  narrative  of  his 
progenitors,  one  of  whom  had  the  memorable  vision  at 
Bethel,  and  the  other  rejoiced  to  see  the  day  of  Christ,  and 
saw  it,  and  was  glad  ? 

Describing  his  approach  to  the  birthplace  of  the  Redeemer, 
an  American  tourist  writes  :  '  I  came  to  Bethlehem  at  the 
time  of  the  beginning  of  the  barley  harvest.  This  was  the 
exact  time  when  Naomi  with  her  daughter-in-law  arrived  at 
this  same  city  from  the  land  of  Moab ;  and  here  were  the 
very  fields,  still  cultivated  in  the  same  manner,  in  which 
Ruth  [an  ancestor  of  our  Lord]  gleaned  after  the  reapers  of 
Boaz.  "We  met  the  Bethlehem  shepherds  on  the  road,  leading 
out  their  flocks  to  the  neighboring  hills.  It  was  among  these 
hills  that  David,  the  young  shepherd  of  Bethlehem,  spent  his 
youth,  watching  his  father's  flocks.  And  here,  perhaps,  he 
composed  the  twenty-third  Psalm  :  "  The  Lord  is  my  shep- 
herd, I  shall  not  want." '  When  our  Redeemer  visited 
Bethlehem,^  where   himself  and  his   ancestor  the  pride   of 

1  See  Gen.  xiii.  8-13 

'■^  It  is  natural  to  presume  that  while  our  Lord  was  sojourning  in  the  vicinity 
of  Jerusalem  he  walked  over  to  Bethlehem,  still  we  are  not  expressly  informed 
that  he  did  so.  We  presume,  hut  we  are  not  expressly  told,  that  he  visited 
Hebron,  so  famous  in  Jewish  history.  The  New  Testament  more  than  any 
other  book  excites  our  interest  in  questions  of  mere  geography,  chronology, 
biography,  etc.,  but  does  not  distinctly  aim  either  to  excite  or  to  gratify  this 
interest.  The  aim  of  the  New  Testament  is  to  point  out  the  way  of  salvation 
by  the  cross  of  Christ.     The  book  depresses  all  other  subjects  in  order  to  make 


308  IKFLUENCES  ON   CHRIST  AS  A  MAN. 

Israel  were  boru,  these  fields  were  cultivated  in  the  same 
way,  and  the  shepherds  then  as  now  retained  their  old  usages. 
If  these  scenes  remind  a  modern  American  so  vividly  of  the 
Old  Testament,  must  they  not  have  refreshed  the  mind  of 
Jesus  with  reminiscences  of  the  same  book,  that  book  of  his 
family  annals,  that  book  which  pointed  to  him,  which  was 
valuable  for  his  sake  ?  It  was  his  family  Bible.  He  learned 
his  rights  from  that  family  record.  He  reasoned  from  it. 
He  was  familiar  with  its  grammatical  niceties.^  He  seems 
to  have  learned  large  portions  of  it  by  heart.  It  gratifies 
our  love  of  old  things  and  of  old  times  to  know  that  we  and 
our  children  hold  in  our  hands  the  same  writings  which  filled 
so  sacred  a  place  in  training  the  youthful  Nazarene  ;  and 
that  he  imposes  on  us  no  other  duty  than  he  imposed  on 
himself  when  he  said, '  Search  the  Scriptures,  for  it  is  they 
that  testify  of  me.' 

Fourthly,  the  character  of  the  man  Christ  Jesus  was 
moulded  by  his  private  and  public  worship  of  God.  This 
worship  elevates  and  expands  the  intellect.  It  enriches  and 
ennobles  the  sensibilities.  We  suppose  that  from  his  early 
childhood  the  son  of  Mary  received  high  and  stimulating 
ideas  in  his  private  converse  witli  his  Father  in  heaven.  "  He 
went  up  into  the  mountain  to  pray."  "  He  continued  all 
night  in  prayer."  '  In  the  days  of  his  flesh  he  offered  up 
prayers  and  supplications  with  strong  crying  and  tears.' 
He  had  disciplined  himself  to  such  prolonged  and  regular 
devotions  that  when  the  troubles  of  the  garden  came  upon 
him  it  was  a  second  nature  for  him  to  exclaim  :  "  Sit  ye  here 

this  one  subject  prominent.  Here  is  a  sign  of  its  inspiration.  It  awakens  our 
curiosity  in  regard  to  incidental  themes  by  the  interest  which  it  awakens  in  the 
great  theme  of  Christ's  atonement. 

1  One  of  the  passages  in  which  ho  showed  this  familiarity  is  John  x.  34-36  r 
".Tesus  answered  them,  Is  it  not  written  in  your  law,  I  said,  Ye  are  gods  ?  If 
he  called  them  gods  unto  whom  the  word  of  God  came  (and  the  Scripture  can- 
not be  broken),  say  ye  of  him  whom  the  Father  sanctified  and  sent  into  the 
world,  Thou  blasphcmcst ;  because  I  said,  I  am  the  Son  of  God  ?  " 


INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A  MAN.  309 

while  I  go  yonder  and  pray  " ;  "  and  being  in  an  agony  he 
prayed  more  earnestly  " ;  and  even  when  his  God  had  for- 
saken him  he  illustrated  his  own  rule  that  men  ought  always 
to  pray  and  not  to  faint.  On  the  cross  he  prayed  in  words 
quoted  from  the  twenty-second  Psalm,  and  we  are  warranted 
in  saying  that  all  these  Psalms,  which  have  been  the  strength 
and  ornament  of  the  Jewish  and  Christian  church,  have  yet 
fulfilled  their  loftiest  mission  at  the  house  of  the  carpenter 
at  Nazareth.  The  songs  composed  by  the  royal  ancestor 
of  that  house  may  have  been  the  daily  food  of  the  father, 
mother,  brothers,  and  sisters  of  Jesus  in  his  boyhood  and 
early  youth. 

His  habits  of  secret  devotion  fitted  him  for  the  public  wor- 
ship of  Jehovah.  It  seems  probable  that  before  he  was  thirty 
years  of  age  he  attended  the  weekly  exercises  of  the  Pros- 
euchae  and  the  Synagogues  as  silent  laymen  attend  their 
weekly  religious  conferences.  With  us  an  educated  layman 
will  sometimes  absent  himself  from  these  devotional  gath- 
erings because  the  homely  words  uttered  in  them  do  not 
accord  with  his  tastes  ;  but  our  Model  of  life  prepared  himself 
for  his  great  mission  by  observing  and  doing  what  was 
required  by  the  scribes  and  Pharisees,  who  sat  in  Moses'  seat. 
Let  us  reflect  for  a  moment  on  what  may  have  been  his 
experience  during  one  of  the  services  in  the  synagogue, 
when  he  had  so  far  "advanced  in  wisdom"  as  to  read  his 
Gospel  in  the  Prophecies. 

When  the  minister  who  took  charge  of  the  parchment  rolls 
had  brought  one  of  them  to  the  presiding  elder,  and  when 
the  elder  had  read  the  lesson  of  the  day,  he  may  have  made 
his  own  comments  upon  it,  and  may  have  proclaimed : 
"  Brethren,  if  ye  have  any  word  of  exhortation  for  the  people, 
say  on."  ^  When  some  rude  exhorters  had  risen  to  expatiate 
on  the  text,  how  mucli  tamer  were  the  words  which  they 
uttered  than  were  the  thoughts  of  the  young  man  who  listened 
to  them !     The  passage  of  the  day  may  have   been,  "  Who 

1  Acts  xiii.  15. 


310  INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A    MAN. 

hath  believed  our  report,  and  to  whom  is  the  arm  of  the  Lord 
revealed  ? "  AYhat  report  ?  What  is  this  arm  of  the  liord  ? 
The  young  listener  keeps  the  great  secret  in  his  own  breast. 
Another  secret  follows :  "  He  was  wounded  for  our  trans- 
gressions ;  he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities."  There  it  is  ; 
there  is  the  wonderful  fact.  That  youthful  hearer  is  the 
only  one  who  detects  the  full  meaning  of  it.  Round  about 
it  and  round  about  it  stagger  and  stumble  the  unlettered 
Jews  who  pretend  to  explain  it ;  but  they  never  come  straight 
up  to  its  main  import,  nor  form  one  exact  idea  of  it.  The 
young  man  is  grieved  that  his  heavenly  Father's  message  is 
like  a  pearl  cast  before  swine.  He  suffers  under  the  mangled 
explanation  of  the  prophecy  respecting  himself.  He  is 
oppressed  in  the  synagogue  of  his  fathers.  He  is  afflicted  by 
the  barbarous  speech  of  his  exhorters.  — "Who  shall  declare 
his  generation  ?"  How  his  heart  burns  within  him  to  explain 
what  the  preachers  have  so  crudely  expounded.  He  might 
rise,  and  all  the  villagers  would  wonder  at  the  gracious  elo- 
quence of  his  lips.  He  might  now  illumine  the  fifty-third 
of  Isaiah,  as  he  afterward  illustrated  the  sixty-first  in  this 
same  synagogue  of  Nazareth.  But  his  ungrateful  towns- 
men might  at  once  have  led  him  to  the  brow  of  the  hill  on 
which  their  village  was  built,  that  they  might  cast  him 
down  headlong.^  His  hour  for  that  scene  had  not  yet 
come.  He  opened  not  his  mouth.  He  disciplined  his 
spirit  by  sitting  as  a  humble  learner.  The  words  of  the 
exhorters  may  have  reminded  him  of  the  stripes  which 
he  was  to  endure  and  by  which  we  were  to  be  healed.  He 
extracted  the  truth  from  the  errors  of  his  teachers.  He 
gathered  honey  from  the  dry  leaves  of  the  synagogue. 
Daily,  hourly  was  he  learning  that  lowliness  of  mind  which 
was  to  prepare  him  for  Gethsemanc  and  Calvary.  In  the 
synagogue,  as  well  as  in  the  streets,  he  learned  obedience  by 
the  things  that  he  suffered ;  by  his  sense  of  shame  for  the 
rude  speech  of  the  very  best  of  the  teachers  of  the  favored 

'  Luke  iv.  29. 


INFLUENCES   ON    CHRIST   AS   A   MAN.  311 

people  ;  by  the  word  wliicli  lie  so  often  revolved  in  his  own 
secret  thoughts,  '  I  have  many  things  to  say  unto  you,  my 
townsmen,  my  father,  my  brothers,  my  sisters,  but  ye  cannot 
bear  them  now.' 

There  are  reasons  for  supposing  that  before  he  went  up  to 
Jerusalem  he  had  received  some  instruction  in  regard  to  the 
ritual  of  the  temple,  and  as  often  as  he  beheld  the  sacrifices 
there  he  received  some  new  idea  of  their  import.  The  New 
Testament  informs  us  of  the  time  when  he  began  to  teach, 
but  not  of  the  time  when  he  began  to  learn.  As  he  had  no 
sin  drawing  him  backward,  as  he  had  an  ever-active  virtue 
impelling  him  forward,  we  may  well  suppose  that  as  often 
as  he  witnessed  the  temple  service  he  opened  his  mind  to  its 
rich  intimations.  We  read  in  our  context  that  his  parents 
went  to  Jerusalem  every  year  at  the  feast  of  the  Passover. 
How  many  times  they  led  him  with  them  we  are  not  informed. 
His  journeys  to  the  sacred  city  may  have  been  in  themselves 
an  education.  New  light  may  have  dawned  upon  him  as  he 
listened  to  the  singing  of  the  Psalms  appointed  for  the  pil- 
grimage. New  ideas  may  have  occurred  to  him  as  he  walked 
through  the  cities  and  over  the  fields  which  even  in  our  own 
day  are  a  commentary  on  the  Bible. ^  The  moment  when  he 
first  beheld  the  towers  of  the  holy  city  was  one  into  which 
he  may  have  compressed  years  of  ordinary  progress.  A 
man  may  live  a  century  in  an  hour.  There  arc  crises  which 
can  never  be  forgotten,  and  in  which  one  glance  of  the  eye 
takes  in  broad  acres  of  truth  before  unknown.  When 
Chateaubriand  first  caught  a  glimpse  of  Jerusalem  he  fell 

^  It  is  thought  by  some  critics  that  when  our  Saviour  made  his  first  visit  to 
Jerusalem  he  passed  over  the  river  Kishon  into  the  vicinity  of  Ilcrmon,  Gilboa, 
Megiddo,  Ebal,  Gerizim,  Shiloh,  Gibeah,  Bethel,  and  other  places  full  of  thrill- 
ing suggestions.  A  more  common  opinion  is,  that  in  his  first  journey  he  went 
with  the  caravan  from  Nazareth  taward  the  cast ;  crossing  the  Jordan  near  the 
ancient  Bethshean,  passed  into  Perea,  then  proceeded  along  the  east  side  of 
Jordan,  recrossed  the  river  near  Jericho,  and  thence  through  the  desert  ascended 
to  the  Holy  City.  The  reason  for  taking  this  route,  especially  at  the  time  of  the 
Jewish  festivals,  was  the  disposition  of  the  Samaritans  to  molest  the  Jews  when 
travelling  to  their  temple  service. 


312  INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A   MAN, 

on  his  knees  and  continued  rapt  in  prayer.  Adam  Clarke 
was  overwhelmed,  and  prostrated  himself  before  God.  It  is 
natural  to  suppose  that  some  new  gleams  of  light  met  the 
eye  of  Jesus  when  he  looked  for  the  first  time  upon  the 
temple  of  which  he  had  heard  so  many  inspiriting  reports. 
"We  cannot  learn  how  clear  or  how  obscure  were  the  glim- 
merings of  his  future  history  when  he  first  gazed  upon  the 
altar  of  the  temple,  and  watched  the  ceremonials  of  the 
paschal  sacrifice.  It  is  commonly  thought  that  he  paid  his 
first  visit  to  the  sacred  edifice  when  he  was  twelve  years  old. 
During  that  visit  he  may  have  had  glimpses  less  and  less 
brief,  less  and  less  faint,  of  the  great  truth  which  may  have 
been  too  great  for  a  boy  of  his  tender  years.  Perhaps  we 
may  venture  on  an  imagination  of  his  soliloquy :  '  This 
offering  of  the  paschal  lamb !  is  it  not  a  sign  of  something 
to  come  upon  me  ?  This  slaughtering  of  an  innocent  animal ! 
has  it  not  some  dark  foreboding  ?  This  lifted  knife  of  the 
priest !  has  it  the  same  significance  with  the  knife  of  Abra- 
ham, my  great  ancestor,  when  it  was  raised  two  thousand 
years  ago,  on  this  very  spot,  and  his  son,  his  only  son,  lay 
stretched  out  upon  the  sacrificial  stone,  and  wondering  at 
the  mysterious  spectacle  ?  ^  The  dying  moans  of  the  victims ! 
is  there  to  be  another  victim,  which,  hard  by  this  very  altar, 
is  to  be  offered  up  in  sacrifice?  Two  sharp  instruments, 
crossing  each  other  and  thrust  through  the  bleeding  animal ! 
is  there  to  be  a  still  more  painful  crucifixion  ?  Fire  applied 
to  the  animal!  but  this  fire,  —  is  it  a  shadow  cast  forward 
from  the  furnace  in  which  a  different  sufferer  is  to  walk  ? 
And  those  words  of  my  forefather  David,  whither  do  they 
point  ?  '  They  pierced  my  hands  and  my  feet ;  my  heart  is 
like  wax,  it  is  melted  within  me.  Be  not  thou  far  from  me, 
0  Lord.'  The  flesh  of  the  animal  is  now  eaten.  It  is  meat 
indeed.  Except  men  eat  of  this  flesh  they  have  no  life  in 
them.' 

If  broken  hints  like  these  arose  in  the  mind  of  the  young 

^  Gen.  xxii.  1-14. 


INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A   MAN.  313 

worshipper,  we  need  not  wonder  that  he  lingered  in  the  tem- 
ple after  the  close  of  its  services  for  the  day.  His  father 
and  mother  had  started  with  their  caravan  for  their  home ; 
but  we  need  not  wonder  that  his  soul  was  stirred  to  its  pro- 
foundest  depths,  and  he  tarried  near  that  altar  where  the 
victim  opened  not  its  mouth,  where  not  a  bone  of  the  lamb 
was  broken.  His  parents  may  have  come  back  in  sorrow, 
and  searched  through  the  lanes  of  the  city  for  three  days  in 
order  to  find  their  lost  child ;  but  we  need  not  wonder  that 
he  remained  with  the  doctors  of  the  law,  and  plied  them  with 
queries.  He  may  have  asked :  '  Does  all  this  prefigure  the 
fountain  to  be  opened  in  Israel  ?  Does  it  ?  Hoiv  does  it  ? 
When  does  it  ?  Where  does  it  find  its  full  meaning  ? '  If 
his  mother  broke  in  upon  his  earnest  questioning,  did  she 
not  know  that  he  must  be  about  his  Father's  business  ?  A 
sword  shall  pierce  through  her  own  heart  yet.  If  she  bore 
him  away  from  the  temple  and  the  altar  and  the  mount  of 
sacrifice,  then  we  do  not  wonder  that  he  went  down  with  his 
parents,  "  and  came  to  Nazareth ;  and  he  was  subject  unto 
them  "  ;  and  we  ave  prepared  to  hear  that  "  Jesus  advanced 
in  wisdom  and  stature,  and  in  favor  with  God  and  men."  It 
is  natural  to  presume  that  either  at  the  house  of  his  parents 
when  he  heard  of  the  Jewish  sacrifices,  or  at  the  house  of 
his  Father  when  he  witnessed  them,  either  for  the  first  time 
or  at  some  following  time,  he  was  inwardly  and  partially 
enacting  his  atonement  —  secretly  and  deliberately  and  in- 
quiringly tasting  of  the  cup  which  he  was  to  drink  near  that 
mysterious  Mount  Moriah.  So  was  his  plastic  mind  fashioned 
for  his  coming  sorrows. 

Fifthly,  the  character  of  the  man  Christ  Jesus  was  affected 
by  his  temptations.  He  used  the  means  for  gaining  a  power 
to  resist  them.  He  gained  his  power  by  using  these  means, 
and  he  augmented  it  by  using  it.^ 

It  is  perilous  for  a  youth  to  know  that  he  is  descended  from 

^  See  Note  B,  at  the  end  of  the  sermon. 


314  INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A  MAN. 

a  long  line  of  kings.  It  tends  to  inflame  that  pride  of  an- 
cestry which  a  human  mind  does  not  easily  repress.  In  his 
early  life,  however,  the  Prince  of  Israel  guarded  his  heart 
against  all  undue  esteem  either  of  himself  or  of  his  fore- 
fathers. '  Consider  the  lilies,'  we  presume  that  he  often 
said  to  his  own  spirit  as  he  was  keeping  himself  meek  and 
lowly,  '  consider  the  lilies,  how  they  grow.  They  toil  not, 
and  yet  my  royal  ancestor  in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed 
like  one  of  these  flowers,  which  to-day  is,  and  to-morrow  is 
cast  into  the  oven.  Why,  then,  should  even  the  kings  of  the 
earth  be  proud  ?  And  one  of  these  kings  has  said,  —  did  he 
say  it  in  reference  to  me  ?  —  "I  am  a  worm  and  no  man,  the 
reproach  of  men  and  the  despised  of  the  people." ' 

It  is  perilous  for  a  youth  to  foresee  his  own  future  exalta- 
tion. The  ancestral  renown  is  not  a  more  fearful  lure  to 
sin  than  are  the  honors  that  glitter  before  the  upward- 
beaming  eye.  The  descendant  of  the  heroes  of  Judea  had  a 
right  to  believe  that  a  coronation  ode  had  already  been 
written  for  him,  and  that  the  whole  world  would  one  day 
sing  to  him :  '  Gird  on  thy  sword,  0  hero !  thy  glory  and 
ornament ! '  Wherewithal  shall  a  child  of  mortality  pre- 
serve a  humble  mind  when  he  is  to  be  addressed  in  such  a 
paean  of  victory,  sung  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  Sho- 
shannim,  and  all  the  sons  and  daughters  of  Judea  and  all  the 
tribes  of  men  are  finally  to  echo  and  re-echo  the  triumphal 
Psalm  ?  The  hero  of  this  epithalamium  must  gird  himself 
for  wrestling  with  superhuman  temptations,  or  else  for  the 
sake  of  obtaining  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  as  his 
possession  he  will  dally  for  one  minute  with  some  unhal- 
lowed love  of  fame.  He  did  gird  himself.  He  did  not 
allay  his  physical  hunger  by  converting  stones  into  bread, 
nor  did  he  work  a  miracle  for  gaining  his  spiritual  food  ; 
but  he  used  the  means ;  he  watched  and  prayed ;  and  many 
a  thoughtful  hour  did  he  spend,  we  presume,  in  whispering 
to  his  own  heart:  'Every  one,  be  he  who  he  may,  that 
humljleth  himself  shall  be  exalted.     Every  one,  be  he  who 


INFLUENCES   ON    CHRIST   AS   A   MAN.  315 

he  may,  that  taketh  the  highest  place  shall  be  thrust  down 
to  the  lowest.'  And  so  did  our  Lord  incase  in  a  setting 
of  pure  gold  his  meek  and  quiet  spirit,  which  in  the  sight  of 
God  is  the  pearl  of  great  price. 

Nor  was  he  tempted  merely  by  an  appeal  to  his  aspiring 
sensibilities.  He  struggled  against  such  appeals  to  his  fear 
as  would  overpower  other  men.  We  should  expect  tliat  a 
young  man  in  our  day  would  lose  all  cheer  and  alacrity  of 
spirit  if  the  evils  of  his  future  life  were  mapped  out  before 
him ;  if  he  were  informed  of  the  particular  incisions  and  the 
bruises  which  would  hasten  his  exit  from  earth  ;  if  he  should 
see  his  own  death  solemnly  represented  before  an  inquiring 
assembly.  It  is  our  comfort  that  the  pains  of  definite  antici- 
pation are  not  superadded  to  the  sorrows  of  the  future ;  that 
when  our  woes  steal  in  upon  us  they  do  not  find  us  already 
weakened  by  long-continued,  oft-repeated  symbols  of  them. 
Our  temptations  would  be  heavier  than  we  could  bear  if  we 
had  a  prophetic  view  of  the  precise  time  and  the  exact 
nfethod  of  our  suffering  the  pangs  which  lie  waiting  for  us 
in  the  dark  valley  we  are  to  pass  through.  But  the  evil  of 
every  day  was  not  sufiicient  for  the  Man  of  sorrows.  He 
had  a  foresight  of  his  woes.  How  early  he  had  it,  and  how 
clear  and  full  it  was  in  his  youthful  days  we  are  not  informed. 
It  appears  to  have  become  more  and  more  distinct  as  he  drew 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  signal  woe  for  which  he  came  into 
the  world.  As  he  "  advanced  in  wisdom  "  he  advanced  in 
his  prophetic  insight.  At  an  age  when  other  persons  are 
buoyant  with  hope  there  was  held  up  before  his  vision  a  chart 
of  the  whirlpools  he  was  to  sail  into  and  the  rocks  on  which 
his  frail  bark  was  to  be  dashed,  and  the  waves  of  indignation 
that  were  to  roll  over  him  as  he  sank  in  the  deep  waters. 
No  man  was  ever  so  tempted  to  let  go  his  genial  fellowship 
with  his  race,  and  let  himself  down  into  a  melancholy  mood, 
no  longer  mingling  among  men  as  their  bosom  com})anion, 
eating  and  drinking,  binding  up  the  broken-hearted,  and  hold- 
ing in  his  arms  the  feeble  and  the  faint.     If  he  were  to  be 


316  INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A   MAN. 

frowned  upon  by  his  enemies  and  forsaken  by  his  friends ; 
if  he  were  to  be  hunted  as  a  beast  for  slaughter  by  the 
Nazarenes,  and  then  despised  as  a  Nazarene  by  the  Beth- 
saidans,  and  as  a  Bethsaidan  by  the  Judeans,  and  as  a  Judean 
by  the  Romans ;  if  he  were  to  walk  all  the  day  long  in  the 
shadow  of  the  calamities  which  were  to  come  upon  him,  how 
could  he  smile  as  he  drew  near  to  them,  and  continue  to 
strew  flowers  in  the  pathway  of  men  who  hated  him  without 
a  cause  ?  "We  can  almost  hear  him  familiarizing  himself  in 
his  private  walks  with  those  great  truths  that  disciplined  his 
spirit :  '  There  is  not  a  sparrow  that  falleth  to  the  ground 
without  engaging  the  watchful  care  of  the  Great  King.  The 
very  hairs  of  the  head  of  the  most  despised  and  down-trodden 
of  the  sons  of  men  are  all  numbered  by  the  Father  of  us  all, 
and  I  delight  to  do  his  will,  and  my  joy  is  fulfilled  in  all 
men  who  love  him.' 

Sixthly,  the  human  character  of  Christ  was  formed  under 
the  influence  of  his  afflictions.  This  is  the  great  truth  which 
has  been  implied  in  the  preceding  remarks.  We  often  repeat 
the  proverbial  phrases  that  a  man's  right  feeling  makes  him 
a  good  judge  of  religious  truth  ;  that  if  he  will  pray  fervently 
he  will  study  the  Bible  successfully,  that  if  he  chooses  to  do 
the  divine  will  he  will  understand  the  divine  record  of  that 
will.^  Our  Saviour  taught  the  Jews  that  the  Old  Testament 
bore  witness  of  him.^  Now  the  most  important  witness 
which  the  Old  Testament  bears  concerning  him  is  in  its 
sacrifices,  and  these  prefigure  his  atonement.  As  his  mind 
had  never  been  made  obtuse  by  any  wrong  impulse,  as  it  was 
made  acute  and  penetrating  by  his  uniform  godliness,  we  are 
led  to  believe  that  the  meaning  and  application  of  the  Levit- 
ical  sacrifices  were  understood  by  him  far  earlier  than  they 
are  understood  by  imperfect  men.  We  are  prompted  to 
believe  that  in  his  boyhood  he  was  informed  of  the  song  by 
which  the  angels  lieralded  his  birth,  of  the  honor  paid  him 

1  John  vii.  17.  '^  John  v.  39  ;  Luke  xxiv.  25-27. 


INFLUENCES   ON   CHEIST   AS   A   MAN.  317 

by  the  wise  men  from  the  east,  of  the  enemies  who  "  sought 
the  young  child's  life,"  of  many  notable  events  connected 
with  his  infancy.  All  such  events  were  fitted  to  make  him 
the  more  inquisitive  in  regard  to  the  sacrificial  types  of  which 
he  was  the  antitype.  His  famiharity  with  these  types  was 
fitted  to  keep  his  own  great  sacrifice  paramount  in  his 
thoughts,  and  thus  to  keep  the  silver  in  the  refiner's  fire.  His 
meditations  on  his  cross  were  fitted  to  make  him  "  a  man  of 
sorrows,"  and  his  unprecedented  sorrows  were  fitted  to  make 
his  holiness  more  profound  than  that  of  any  other  man.  At 
one  time  he  exclaimed  :  "  Now  is  my  soul  troubled  ;  and 
what  shall  I  say  ?  Father,  save  me  from  this  hour.  But  for 
this  cause  came  I  unto  this  hour."  ^  It  was  the  hour  of  his 
sacrificial  death  in  the  prospect  of  which  his  soul  was  under 
the  discipline  of  affliction.  Tliis  death  suggested  to  him  the 
sinfulness  of  men,  and  in  view  of  this  sinfulness  he  had  long 
been  afflicted.  This  death  suggested  to  him  the  miseries 
resulting  from  sin,  and  in  view  of  these  miseries  he  had  long 
been  afflicted.  It  suggested  to  him  the  mysterious  pains 
which  he  was  to  endure  on  the  cross  ;  and  in  his  prophetic 
view  of  these  pains  he  said  :  "  I  have  a  baptism  to  be  bap- 
tized with  ;  and  how  am  I  straitened  [distressed]  till  it  be 
accomplished  ! "  ^  All  these  afflictions  must  have  had  an 
influence  on  his  character.  Trouble  has  an  influence  on  aU 
good  men  ;  it  must  have  had  a  deeper  and  better  influence 
on  him.  "  In  the  days  of  his  flesh  having  offered  up  prayers 
and  supplications  with  strong  crying  and  tears  unto  him  that 
was  able  to  save  him  from  death,"  he  "  learned  obedience  by 
the  things  which  he  suffered."  ^  He  learned  obedience,  not 
the  common  obedience  of  common  men,  but  "  the  obedience 
unto  death,"  the  death  prefigured  at  the  Jewish  altars.  He 
learned  submission,  a  grace  which  in  its  distinctive,  specific 
form  cannot  be  learned  except  in  the  prospect  or  endurance 
of  woe.  Being  instructed  by  his  personal  sorrow,  he  learned 
the  sweetness  of  resignation ;  for  in  the  ordinary  use  of  lan- 

'  John  xii.  27-36  ;  xiii.  1.  '^  Luke  xii.  50.  «  Heb.  v.  7,  8. 


318  INFLUENCES   ON    CHRIST   AS   A   MAN. 

guage  the  grace  of  resignation  is  attended  with  some  promi- 
nence of  grief.  Being  taught  by  his  personal  experience  of 
fear  he  learned  to  sympathize  with  us  in  "  our  infirmities  "  ; 
for  his  warm  sympathies  imply  his  fellow-feeling  with  us  in 
our  affliction.^  He  learned  to  practise  that  one,  which  in 
some  aspects  is  the  most  difficult  of  all  the  virtues,  —  to 
persevere  in  doing  good  under  the  pressure  of  deadly  evils, 
and  in  the  prospect  of  evils  to  come  yet  deadlier.  His  atone- 
ment consisted  specially  and  pre-eminently  in  his  death  on 
the  cross,  but  it  comprehended  all  his  antecedent  afflictions 
having  reference  to  that  death.  It  reached,  indeed,  so  far  as 
to  include  all  the  sorrows  which  he  daily  humbled  himself  to 
endure.  All  these  sorrows  called  forth  new  degrees  of  holi- 
ness, and  every  new  degree  of  it  prepared  the  way  for  a 
degree  yet  higher.  Thus  while  on  earth  he  "  advanced  in 
wisdom,"  and  when  he  ascended  from  the  earth  he  was 
advanced  to  the  honors  appropriate  to  him  who  had  been 
oppressed  and  afflicted  in  our  behalf.  "  For  it  became  him 
for  whom  are  all  things,  and  through  whom  are  all  things, 
in  bringing  many  sons  unto  glory,  to  make  the  author  of 
their  salvation  perfect  through  sufferings."  "  And  having 
been  made  perfect  [rewarded  and  glorified  for  his  suffer- 
ings], he  became  unto  all  them  that  obey  him,  the  author  of 
eternal  salvation."  ^ 

Seventhly,  the  character  of  Christ  as  a  man  was  formed 
under  the  peculiar  and  mysterious  influences  of  the  Divine 
Mind.  The  Father  abode  in  him  and  worked  in  him;'  and 
"  for  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him  "  by  the  Father,  the  Son 
passed  through  those  bitter  experiences  which  qualified  him 
to  sit  on  the  Mediatorial  throne.  The  Father  said  of  the 
Son:  "The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  shall  rest  upon  him  —  and 
shall  make  him  of  quick  understanding  " ;  and  again  :  "  I 
have  put  my  Spirit  upon  him."  *     The  angel  Gabriel  said  to 

1  rieb.  ii.  17,  18  ;  iv.  15.  ^  Ilcb.  ii.  10 ;  v.  9. 

3  John  X.  37,  38  ;  xiv.  10,  1 1 .  «  Isa.  xi.  1-4 ;  xlii.  1-4. 


INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A   MAN.  319 

the  virgin :  "  The  Holy  Ghost  shall  come  upon  thee,  and  the 
power  of  the  Most  High  shall  overshadow  thee."  ^  "And  the 
child  grew,  and  waxed  strong,  filled  with  wisdom ;  and  the 
grace  of  God  was  upon  him."  ^  "  And  John  bare  witness, 
saying,  I  have  beheld  the  Spirit  descending  as  a  dove  out  of 
heaven;  and  it  abode  upon  him."^  "And  Jesus,  full  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  returned  from  the  Jordan,  and  was  led  by  the 
Spirit  in  the  wilderness  during  forty  days."  ^  "  And  Jesus 
returned  in  the  power  of  the  Spirit  into  Galilee."  ^  When 
we  read  :  "  It  was  the  good  pleasure  of  the  Father  that  in 
him  [Christ]  should  all  the  fulness  dwell,"  "  In  him  dwelleth 
all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily,"^  we  are  impressed 
by  the  fact  that  even  while  on  earth  the  human  nature  of 
Christ,  although  remaining  strictly  human,  was  raised  by  its 
union  with  the  divine  nature,  into  a  degree  of  excellence  far 
above  our  earthly  standards. 

Among  all  the  productions  of  the  Divine  Mind,  there  is 
not  one,  perhaps,  which  will  ever  attract  so  many  admiring 
eyes  as  the  triumph  of  his  wisdom  in  fashioning  the  char- 
acter of  the  man  who  from  the  babe  of  Bethlehem  grew  up 
into  the  "  merciful  and  faithful  High  Priest "  who  can  "  be 
touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities,"  and  who  endears 
himself  to  his  friends  on  earth  "  in  that  he  himself  hath  suf- 
fered being  tempted,"  and  is  therefore  "  able  to  succor  them 
that  are  tempted." ''  There  will  be  many  brilliant  luminaries 
in  the  firmament  of  heaven.  They  will  reflect  the  radiance 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  But  the  Redeemer  says:  "I  am  the 
bright,  the  morning  star."  s  It  was  meet  that  the  character 
which  is  to  be  the  model  for  all  the  race  to  imitate  should  be 
formed  with  especial  care.  It  was  meet  that  the  stamp 
which  was  to  be  impressed  on  the  plastic  minds  of  all  the 
chosen  of  God  through  all  time  and  all  eternity  should  be 
wrought  out  with  a  divine  watcMulness  and  an  infinite  taste. 

1  Luke  i.  35.  2  L^j^e  {;_  40.  8  John  i.  32. 

••  Luke  iv.  1.  6  Luke  iv.  14.  «  Col.  i.  19 ;  ii.  9. 

'  Heb.  ii.  17,  18;  iv.  15.  »  Rev.  xxii.  16. 


320  INFLUENCES   ON    CHKIST   AS   A    MAN. 

Every  lineament  must  be  drawn  with  exactness,  for  it  is  to 
be  copied  and  recopied  on  earth  and  in  heaven ;  and  all  the 
graces  of  all  the  redeemed  are  to  be  photographed  from  this 
one  standard  of  beauty. 

In  this  discourse  we  have  seen  that  the  Divine  Mind 
employed  upon  the  man  Christ  Jesus  all  the  instruments 
of  human  art  and  of  outward  nature,  of  the  Bible  and  of 
temptation,  —  temptations  of  sorrow  and  joy,  defeat  and 
triumph,  —  in  order  that  wherever  we  roam  we  may  have  a 
faultless  pattern,  and  amid  all  our  queries  how  to  conduct 
ourselves  we  may  look  unto  Jesus,  and  learn  in  an  instant 
how  to  act  and  speak  and  think  and  feel.  When  we  are  under 
the  parental  roof,  or  conversing  with  the  ministers  of  religion, 
or  journeying  by  day  near  the  fields  already  white  for  the 
harvest,  or  walking  by  moonlight  through  the  shrubbery  of  a 
garden,  or  sitting  way-worn  and  weary  near  a  fountain  of 
water,  or  sailing  over  a  smooth  sea,  or  lying  down  in  a  boat 
tossed  by  the  storm,  or  looking  from  a  mountain-top  upon 
the  magnificent  palaces  of  a  city,  or  rejoicing  at  a  wedding 
festival,  or  going  to  the  grave  to  weep  there,  or  conversing 
in  sacred  confidence  with  our  friends,  or  listening  to  the 
taunts  of  our  enemies,  or  holding  an  office  of  trust,  or  standing 
as  a  subject  or  a  prisoner  before  a  ruler,  or  bond  or  free,  or 
in  health  or  sickness,  or  hungering  or  thirsting,  or  pierced 
or  bruised  or  wounded  or  bleeding  or  dying  —  in  all  conceiv- 
able circumstances  of  our  spiritual  life  we  may  look  up  and 
—  "  Behold  the  Man=" 

As  we  cannot  behold  him  in  the  full  excellence  of  his  life, 
so  wc  cannot  behold  him  in  the  full  significance  of  his  death. 
Wlicn  we  reflect  on  the  sad  origin  of  death  in  the  world, 
on  the  dark  events  of  which  death  is  the  s/mbol,  on  the 
emphasis  given  to  "the  death  of  the  cross,"  we  find  no 
words  for  our  wonder  as  we  "  behold  the  man  "  who  was 
"  delivered  up  by  the  determinate  counsel  and  foreknowledge 
of  God,"  —  delivered  up  to  be  crucified  and  slain.     Our  com- 


INFLUENCES   ON    CHRIST   AS   A   MAN.  321 

fort  is  that  he  was  to  rise  again,  and  he  said  :  "  Destroy  this 
temple,  and  in  three  days  I  will  raise  it  up."  ^  It  was  meet 
that  there  should  be  fashioned  for  us  one  faultless  model ; 
for  this  very  model  was  needed  in  the  great  atonement. 
There  was  to  be  a  statue,  and  it  was  to  be  chiselled  and 
polished  with  a  divine  carefulness,  without  one  stain,  without 
one  spot,  without  one  wrinkle,  witliout  any  such  thing ;  for 
this  was  the  model  which  for  our  welfare  was  to  be  held  up 
before  the  gaze  of  angels  and  archangels  by  the  right  hand  of 
God ;  and  then,  while  principalities  and  powers  were  gazing 
at  the  mysterious  statue,  it  was  to  be  dashed  against  the 
rocks  like  a  potter's  vessel.  At  a  great  price  have  you  and 
I  obtained  our  freedom.  By  the  wounds  and  bruises  of  him 
who  was  enriched  with  such  a  character,  and  who  was 
fashioned  in  his  inner  life  by  the  mysterious  wisdom  of  the 
mysterious  Framer  of  mind,  are  you  and  I  redeemed  out  of 
great  tribulation.  Not  with  silver  and  gold,  but  with  the 
precious  blood  of  the  man  who  was  united  with  God  are  we 
ransomed  from  our  guilt. 

1  John  ii.  19-22. 


322  INFLUENCES   ON  CHRIST  AS  A  MAN 


NOTES. 


Note  A,  to  Page  298. 

One  incidental  aim  of  this  discourse  is,  to  emphasize  the  tnith 
that  Christ  had  a  nature  strictly  human.  "We  are  told  by  objectors 
that  we  mar  the  naturalness  and  simplicity  of  his  record  in  the  New 
Testament,  if  we  read  into  it  the  doctrine  that  he  was  God.  We 
obviate  this  objection  when  we  give  prominence  to  the  truth  that 
he  had  a  human  as  well  as  a  divine  nature.  While  we  believe  tiiat 
his  human  nature  began  to  exist,  not  as  a  separate  person,  but  as  a 
nature  united  with  the  divine,  and  that  the  two  natures,  united  but 
not  mixed,  formed  one  person,  the  God-man,  still  we  believe  that  the 
lower  nature  continued  to  be  as  really  and  properly  human  as  the 
nature  of  Paul  or  John.  Whatever  can  be  predicated  of  the  human 
constitution  as  such,  can  be  predicated  of  the  only  sinless  man.  In 
his  human  nature  be  acted  and  suffered  according  to  the  con- 
stitutional laws  of  humanity.  One  of  these  laws  is  that  of  mental 
growth.  A  man  is  able  to  know  at  one  time  what  he  did  not  know 
at  a  previous  time.  As  a  man  our  Saviour  made  progress,  and  he 
made  it  gradually.  It  was  a  favorite  remark  of  Prof.  Moses  Stuart : 
"  If  there  was  not  a  gradual  increase  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  in 
his  human  nature,  then  that  nature  was  not  truly  and  properly 
human ;  for  this  is  an  unfailing  and  necessary  attribute  of  proper 
humanity."  When  we  give  the  fitting  prominence  to  the  truth  that 
his  wisdom  was  progressive,  we  perceive  no  stiffness  in  the  style  of 
his  biographers.  The  remarks  in  Matt.  xxi.  18-20;  Mark  xi.  12-14; 
Matt.  xxiv.  36 ;  Mark  xiii.  32,  are  perfectly  natural  and  lifelike. 

Another  incidental  aim  of  the  sermon  is,  to  emphasize  the  truth 
that  Christ  was  a  perfect  man.  His  perfect  holiness  facilitated  his 
forming  correct  views  of  truth,  and  his  accurate  views  of  truth  occa- 
sioned his  making  new  advances  in  holiness.  His  right  intellect 
acted  on  his  will,  and  his  right  will  reacted  on  his  intellect ;  and 
thus  his  power  of  mental  and  moral  growth  was  cumulative.  His 
rectitude  of  character  did  not  imply  that  he  lived  without  super- 


INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST   AS   A  MAN.  323 

natural  inspiration,  and  his  supernatural  inspiration  did  not  imply 
that  he  was  deficient  in  rectitude  of  character.  (See  pp.  316-319.) 
In  his  supernatural  working  God  does  not  dishonor  the  constitutional 
laws  established  by  him,  and  in  retaining  these  constitutional  laws 
he  does  not  obviate  the  utility  of  supernatural  working.  There  is  a 
beautiful  harmony  between  his  operating  in  nature  and  his  operat- 
ing above  nature.  There  is  a  moral  grandeur  in  the  fact  that  the 
supernatural  influences  of  the  Divine  Spirit  were  superadded  to  the 
perfection  of  Christ's  human  character.  There  is  a  greater  sublimity 
in  the  fact  that  his  perfect  human  nature  was  taken  up  into  the 
divine,  so  that  he  was  "full  of  grace  and  truth,"  and  "of  his  fulness 
we  all  received,  and  grace  for  grace  "  (John  i.  14,  16). 

A  third  incidental  aim  of  the  sermon  is,  to  emphasize  the  fact 
that  we  do  not  know  how  early  and  how  rapidly  the  man  Christ 
Jesus  made  his  surprising  advances  in  wisdom.  Some  believers  in 
his  divinity  appear  to  be  confident  that  before  his  baptism  he  made  no 
such  advances,  and  that  he  did  not  foresee  his  future  sufferings  until 
a  long  time  after  his  baptism.  But  we  obstruct  the  easy  flow  of  his 
biography  when  we  draw  an  arbitrary  line  in  it,  and  maintain  that 
on  one  side  of  this  line  he  acquired  no  unusual  amount  of  knowl- 
edo-e,  and  on  the  other  side  his  knowledge  came  to  him  without  his 
using  any  means  to  acquire  it.  The  facile  style  of  the  Gospels 
requires  us  to  leave  the  exact  times  and  seasons  undetermined,  to 
admit  the  possibility  of  his  progress  when  we  have  no  definite  proof 
of  it,  and  to  allow  the  probability  of  it  when  we  have  the  slightest 
intimation  of  it.  The  style  of  the  New  Testament  does  not  appear 
stiff  or  artificial  unless  we  erect  arbitrary  barriers  and  contend  that 
before  he  reached  them  he  had  made  no  remarkable  progress  in 
wisdom,  and  after  he  reached  them  he  was  suddenly  endued  with  a 
wisdom  for  which  he  had  used  no  instrumentalities.  As  a  man  he 
needed  to  pray  as  other  men  need  to  pray  ;  and  volumes  of  truth  lie 
hidden  in  his  words  :  "  And  I  knew  that  thou  hearest  me  always  " 
(John  xi.  42). 

A  fourth  incidental  aim  of  the  sermon  is,  to  intimate  the  various 
aspects  in  which  Christ  is  presented  to  us  as  a  teacher  on  whom  we 
can  implicitly  rely.  One  great  argument  for  the  trustworthiness  of 
Moses  and  the  prophets  is  the  fact  that  Christ  endorsed  them ;  and 
one  fjreat  arjoiment  for  the  trustworthiness  of  the  apostles  is  the  fact 


324  INFI.UENCES   ON   CHRIST  AS  A   MAN. 

that  he  promised  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them.  Can  we  place 
implicit  reliance  on  all  his  intimations  ? 

"We  can  place  implicit  reliance  upon  them  in  this  aspect, — his 
human  and  his  divine  natures  were  united  in  one  person,  and  the 
human  was  exalted  by  its  union  with  the  divine.  (See  pp.  318,  319  ; 
compare  John  i.  1-18  ;  iii.  11-13  ;  Heb.  i.  2-4 ;  ii.  1-4.) 

In  another  aspect  we  can  rely  implicitly  upon  him  as  a  teacher,  — 
he  was  supernaturally  influenced  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  (See  pp.  318, 
319;  compare  John  iii.  34;  vii.  16-18;  viii.  26-29;  xii.  44-50; 
xiv.  10,  24  ;  xvii.  8.) 

In  still  other  aspects  of  Christ  we  can  rely  implicitly  on  his  words 
and  intimations, —  he  was  a  perfect  teacher  because  he  was  a  perfect 
man.  (a)  As  a  perfect  man  he  had  perfect  sympathies  with  his 
brethren.  Pupils  are  most  happily  influenced  by  the  teacher  whO' 
loves  them  and  has  a  fellow-feeling  with  them.  The  human  sym- 
pathies of  Christ  were  in  themselves  peculiar  and  peculiarly  endear- 
ing. His  perfect  fitness  to  teach  men  what  they  ought  to  know  is 
implied  in  the  wonderful  declaration  that  "  he  is  not  ashamed  to  call 
them  hrethren^'  (Heb.  ii.  11,  12;  compare  Matt,  xxviii.  10;  John 
XX.  17  ;  Rom.  viii.  29  ;  Heb.  ii.  16-18  ;  iv.  15).  (b)  The  perfection 
of  his  holiness  prevented  him  from  harboring  in  his  own  mind  any 
wrong  impression,  and  from  making  any  remarks  fitted  to  leave  on 
other  minds  a  wrong  impression,  affecting  their  religious  or  moral 
belief  or  duty.  When  we  say  that  he  advanced  in  holiness,  we  do 
not  imply  that  he  advanced  out  of  moral  wrong  into  moral  rectitude  ;. 
so  when  we  say  that  he  made  progress  in  knowledge  we  do  not 
imply  that  he  made  progress  out  of  a  false  belief  into  a  true  one. 
His  intellectual  progress  consisted  in  his  gaining  new  views  of  a  sub- 
ject when  he  had  previously  formed  no  wrong  views  of  it.  His 
moral  progress  consisted  in  his  exercising  new  degrees  of  holiness 
when  he  had  previously  exercised  all  the  degrees  of  it  which  were 
possible  to  him.  He  is  that  unique  man  who  never  had  reason  to 
confess  an  obliquity  of  the  heart  or  of  the  intellect.  When  we 
attempt  to  comprehend, —  and  we  cannot  fully  comprehend  —  the  in- 
fluence of  a  moral  nature  uncontaminated  by  sin  upon  an  intellectual 
nature  undamaged  by  heredity,  —  we  cannot  suppose  that  the  man 
Christ  Jesus,  even  if  left  to  the  working  of  his  merely  human  facul- 
ties, would  have  given  any  instruction  conflicting  with  the  mind  or 


INFLUENCES   ON   CHRIST  AS  A  MAN.  325 

will  of  the  Father  who  dwelt  in  him.  The  remarks  of  Dr.  South 
on  the  moral  perfection  influencing  the  intellectual  perfection  of  the 
first  Adam  suggest  some  important  ideas  on  the  moral,  influencing 
the  intellectual,  perfection  of  the  second  Adam.  "I  confess,"  he 
writes,  "  it  is  as  difficult  for  us,  who  date  our  ignorance  from  our 
first  being,  and  were  still  bred  up  with  the  same  infirmities  about  us 
with  which  we  were  born,  to  raise  our  thoughts  and  imaginations  to 
those  intellectual  perfections  that  attended  our  nature  in  the  time  of 
innocence,  as  it  is  for  a  peasant  bred  up  in  the  obscurities  of  a  cot- 
tage, to  fancy  in  his  mind  the  unseen  splendors  of  a  court.  But  by 
rating  positives  by  their  privatives,  and  other  arts  of  reason  by 
which  discourse  supplies  the  want  of  the  reports  of  sense,  we  may 
collect  the  excellency  of  the  understanding  then  by  the  glorious 
remainders  of  it  now,  and  guess  at  the  stateliness  of  the  building  by 
the  magnificence  of  its  ruins.  All  those  arts,  rarities,  and  inventions 
which  vulgar  minds  gaze  at,  the  ingenious  pursue,  and  all  admire, 
are  but  the  reliques  of  an  intellect  defaced  with  sin  and  time.  We 
admire  it  now,  only  as  antiquaries  do  a  piece  of  old  coin,  for  the 
stamp  it  once  bore,  and  not  for  those  vanishing  lineaments  and  dis- 
appearing draughts  that  remain  upon  it  at  present.  And  certainly 
that  must  needs  have  been  very  glorious  the  decays  of  which  are  so 
admirable.  He  that  is  comely  when  old  and  decrepit  surely  was 
very  beautiful  when  he  was  young.  An  Aristotle  was  but  the  rub- 
bish of  an  Adam,  and  Athens  but  the  rudiments  of  Paradise  "  (Dis- 
courses on  Various  Subjects  and  Occasions,  by  Robert  South,  D.D., 
pp.  7,  8,  Am.  ed.,  1827). 

Note  B,  to  Page  313. 
It  is  a  familiar  remark  that  the  virtue  of  men  is  cultivated  by  their 
resisting  the  small  rather  than  the  great  temptations  to  which  they 
are  subjected.  They  may  obtain  the  victory  over  large  armies,  and 
fall  under  the  victorious  power  of  a  petty  annoyance.  The  three 
temptations  which  are  recorded  in  Luke  iv.  1-13  may  be  regarded 
as  comprehending  a  variety  of  minor  ones  by  which  the  mind  of  our 
Lord  was  affected.  The  narrative  outlines  them  more  or  less  dis- 
tinctly. Among  his  smaller  temptations  may  be  named  his  induce- 
ments to  complain  of  his  lot  as  cast  among  disagreeable  men  and  in 
disagreeable  scenes.     We  are  apt  to  form  an  ideal,  far  different  from 


826  INFLUENCES   ON    CHRIST   AS   A   MAN. 

the  real,  picture  of  Palestine,  and  to  forget  that  our  Eedeemer  was 
educated  by  the  repulsive  as  well  as  by  the  attractive  objects  pre- 
sented to  his  eye.  When  we  are  standing  on  some  ground  where 
we  are  convinced  that  he  often  stood,  and  imagining  that  he  was 
undisturbed  there  in  his  holy  thoughts,  we  may  be  suddenly  checked 
in  our  fancies  by  an  exasperating  bruise,  and  may  feel,  as  well  as  see, 
the  force  of  the  words,  "  They  took  up  stones  to  cast  at  him."  ^  Many 
circumstances  render  it  probable  that  we  are  walking  near  his  foot- 
steps when  we  move  to  and  fro  on  the  summit  of  the  hill  overlook- 
ing Nazareth,  or  on  the  lower  area  contiguous  to  the  fountain  which 
supplies  the  city  with  water.  The  signs  are  that  this  is  an  ancient 
fountain,  and  was  a  popular  resort  for  the  Nazarenes  in  our  Saviour's 
day,  as  it  is  in  our  day.  It  presents  many  delightful  features  ;  but 
we  are  apt  to  forget  how  often  he  may  have  been  annoyed  by  the 
scenes  presented  to  him  there. 

On  an  afternoon  of  the  Jewish  Sabbath  in  the  year  1870  I  sat 
watching  the  crowd  who  had  come  with  their  water-urns  to  the 
fountain,  and  I  easily  imagined  that  the  boy  Jesus  was  sometimes 
led  to  this  place  of  resort  by  his  mother,  as  children  were  led  to  it 
by  their  parents  on  the  afternoon  of  my  visit.  A  young  woman, 
uncommonly  prepossessing  in  her  appearance,  had  just  sold  to  our 
dragoman  a  small  measure  of  provisions  for  our  table.  A  strong 
man  was  near  her,  and  was  disappointed  in  not  having  made  the 
bargain  for  himself.  He  began  to  abuse  her  in  harsh  language.  It 
became  more  and  more  terrific.  Her  replies  were  screeches  of 
revenge.  At  length  he  began  to  wield  over  her  head  a  huge  club, 
and  she  took  up  from  the  ground  a  large  stone.  There  was  danger 
of  serious  wounds  and  bruises.  The  bystanders  did  not  discourage 
the  strife ;  some  appeared  to  enjoy  it.  In  process  of  time  it  was 
followed  by  other  combats  between  the  women  who  had  come  with 
their  urns  or  pitchers  to  the  fountain.  They  fought  like  tigers, 
rather  than  like  the  daughters  of  men.  "Was  not  our  Saviour  often 
annoyed  by  such  brutal  scenes  ?  As  he  watched  the  children  playing 
in  the  market-place,^  was  he  not  repelled,  as  the  traveller  is  now,  by 
their  juvenile  contentions  ?  We  are  apt  to  associate  external  purity 
with  spiritual,  and  to  suppose  that  our  Lord,  having  a  spotless  heart, 
was  a  man  of  exquisite  taste.     He  must  have  been  often  discomfited 

1  John  viii.  59  ;  x.  31.  2  Matt.  xi.  16,  17  ;  Luke  vii.  32. 


INFLUENCES   ON   CHBIST   AS   A   MAN.  327 

by  the  uncleanly  streets  of  Nazareth.  IMany  of  them  have  been 
much  improved  in  this  regard  during  the  last  half  century  ;  but  a 
walk  through  them  is  even  now  a  trial  of  the  traveller's  patience 
and  forbearance.  Our  missionaries  in  Syria  complain  that  their 
'  benevolent  feelings  are  interrupted  '  by  the  offensive  condition  of 
the  houses  and  walks  which  they  frequent. 


XIII. 


THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER  IN  ANTICIPATION 
OE  HIS  DEATH. 


MATTHEW    XXVI.  38. 
MT  80UL  IS  EXOEBDINQ  BOREOWF0L,  EVEN  UNTO  DEATH. 

Whatever  the  character  of  a  man  may  be,  his  feelings  in 
affliction  are  often  modified  by  his  constitutional  peculiar- 
ities. There  are  persons  of  such  firm  nerve  that  they  will 
meet  the  distresses  of  life  with  comparative  indifference ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  persons  of  such  delicate 
framework  that  they  shrink  back  from  the  very  thought 
of  a  pain.  By  various  hints  given  us  in  regard  to  the 
man  of  Nazareth,  we  should  be  led  to  imagine  that  he 
would  not  look  upon  the  ills  of  life  with  apathy,  nor  be 
oppressed  in  anticipation  of  them  with  any  peculiar  dread. 
He  seems  to  have  had  no  excess  in  any  one  part  of  his 
nature,  and  no  deficiency  in  any  other  part.  All  his  powers 
and  all  his  emotions  were  so  happily  adjusted  to  each  other 
that,  judging  from  his  nature  alone,  we  should  be  surprised 
to  hear  of  his  exclaiming,  '  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful, 
so  that  I  feel  as  if  I  should  die  under  my  grief.' 

Not  only  are  the  emotions  of  a  man  in  calamity  so  far 
modified  by  his  constitutional  tendencies  that  we  cannot 
always  determine  from  the  scene  of  his  death  what  had  been 
his  character  through  life,  but  in  like  manner  the  feelings  of 
a  man  in  the   hour  of  trial  are  often  affected  by  his  past 


THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  329 

character,  so  that  we  cannot  always  determhie  from  his  mode 
of  enduring  pain  what  were  the  distinctive  qualities  of  his 
constitution.  There  have  been  men  of  iron  structure  who 
trembled  on  their  death-beds,  and  hastened  their  exit  from 
earth  through  excess  of  fear.  They  had  been  unmerciful 
and  unjust  men  ;  and  their  minds,  stern  as  they  were,  broke 
down  at  last  under  the  remembrance  of  their  guilt.  There 
have  been  other  men  of  frail  texture,  whom  the  winds  of 
heaven  had  never  been  allowed  to  visit  roughly,  who  yet 
encountered  the  king  of  terrors  with  a  smile.  They  had 
been  men  of  faith  and  prayer  and  almsgiving,  and  therefore 
'  the  chamber  where  they  met  their  fate  was  privileged  above 
the  common  walks  of  life,  and  quite  on  the  verge  of  heaven.' 
As  the  constitution  of  the  carpenter's  son  would  not  lead  us 
to  expect  that  he  would  be  depressed  in  view  of  his  decease, 
so  his  character  would  lead  us  to  anticipate  that  his  last 
hours  would  be  his  happiest.  If  our  consciences  were  pure 
like  his  we  should  triumph  in  the  hope  of  being  absent  from 
the  body  so  that  we  might  be  present  with  our  God.  Never 
had  Jesus,  like  one  of  his  disciples,  uttered  a  falsehood,  the 
memory  of  which  would  haunt  his  closing  hours.  Never 
had  he,  like  another  of  his  apostles,  persecuted  the  innocent, 
who  might  seem  to  throng  around  him  when  his  imagina- 
tion was  excited  in  view  of  a  quickly  coming  judgment. 
While  he  hung  upon  the  cross  he  could  not  assemble  before 
him  the  orphan  children  whom  he  had  beggared,  nor  the 
defenceless  mothers  whom  he  had  oppressed,  nor  the  hungry 
whom  he  had  grieved  by  the  denial  of  bread,  nor  the 
sick  whom  he  had  made  disconsolate  by  refusing  to  visit 
them.  If  he  had  made  mistakes  in  judgment,  he  would 
have  humbled  himself  for  them ;  if  he  had  committed  sin, 
which  is  the  copious  fountain  of  mistakes,  he  would  have 
mourned  over  it;  but  he  is  the  only  reasonable  man  who 
ever  lived  and  never  made  a  confession  of  either  mental  or 
moral  error.  His  peculiar  language  was :  "  Which  of  you 
convicteth  me  of  sin  ? "  "I  seek  not  mine  own  will,  but  the 


330  THE  SOEROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER. 

will  of  him  that  sent  me  "  ;  "I  do  always  the  things  that  are 
pleasing  to  him."  ^  His  life  was  filled  up  with  none  but  good 
deeds,  all  of  which  spread  themselves  out  before  his  eye 
fading  in  death,  and  transformed  themselves  into  persons 
bringing  festive  garlands  to  cheer  his  last  hours.  His  life 
was  filled  up  with  such  kindly  thoughts  as  prepare  us  to 
hear  him  exclaim,  "  0  death,  where  is  thy  sting  ?"  and  awaken 
a  feeling  of  disappointment  when  he  cries,  '  My  soul  is  ex- 
ceeding sorrowful,  as  though  the  pangs  of  death  had  already 
fallen  upon  me.' 

The  elevation  of  a  man  above  the  majority  of  his  fellow- 
men  often  disposes  him  to  give  signs  of  equanimity,  if  not  of 
bravery,  in  view  of  passing  from  the  scene  of  probation  to 
that  of  retribution.  "  Socrates  died  like  a  philosopher."  A 
similar  tribute  is  paid  to  many  sages  and  heroes  of  antiquity. 
Intellectual  elevation  sometimes,  moral  elevation  at  other 
times,  intellectual  and  moral  elevation  united,  have  prompted 
them  to  appear,  if  not  to  be,  calm,  if  not  courageous,  in  their 
conflict  with  the  king  of  terrors.  The  style  in  which  our 
Lord  spoke  of  his  own  character  and  office  evinced  his  con- 
sciousness of  being  raised  above  all  his  race  —  above  the  men 
who  went  before  him,  and  the  men  who  were  to  come  after 
him,  and  the  men  who  were  contemporary  with  him.  His 
assertions  are  the  more  impressive  because  they  were  uttered 
so  considerately,  so  conscientiously,  so  confidently.  '  Every 
one,'  he  says,  '  who  heareth  these  words  of  mine  and  doeth 
them  shall  be  likened  unto  a  wise  man  which  built  his  house 
upon  the  rock,  and  the  rain  and  the  floods  and  the  winds 
beat  upon  that  house,  and  it  fell  not ;  and  every  one  that 
heareth  my  words  and  doeth  them  not  shall  be  likened  unto 
a  foolish  man,  which  built  his  house  upon  the  sand,  and  the 
rain  and  the  floods  and  the  winds  beat  upon  that  house,  and 
it  fell.'  ^  He  did  not  move  about  in  royal  apparel ;  but  he 
says,  "  A  greater  than  Solomon  is  here."  ^     He  aggrandizes 

1  John  viii.  46  ;  v.  30  ;  viii.  29.  2  Matt.  vii.  24-27  ;  Luke  vi.  47-49. 

*  Matt.  xii.  42. 


THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  331 

his  office  by  declaring,  "  If  a  man  keep  my  word,  he  shall 
never  see  death."  ^  "  Every  one  that  hath  left  houses  or 
brethren  or  sisters  or  father  or  mother  or  children  or  lands, 
for  my  name's  sake,  shall  receive  a  hundred-fold,  and  shall 
inherit  eternal  life." ^  "I  am  the  bread  of  life :  he  that 
Cometh  to  me  shall  not  hunger,  and  he  that  belie veth  on 
me  shall  never  thirst."  ^  Ho  commands  not  only  our  assent, 
but  also  our  reverence,  as  he  predicts,  "  When  the  Son  of 
man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  and  all  the  angels  with  him, 
then  shall  he  sit  on  the  throne  of  his  glory ;  and  before  him 
shall  be  gathered  all  the  nations."  *  While  we  are  overawed 
by  announcements  like  these,  we  are  not  prepared  to  antici- 
pate that  on  the  eve  of  his  entering  Paradise  he  will  utter 
the  words, '  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful,  and  I  feel  the 
woes  of  one  struggling  with  death.' 

The  peculiar  ties  that  bind  us  to  the  present  and  to  the 
future  world  often  affect  the  mode  of  our  exit.  Wlien  the 
circle  of  a  man's  friendship  is  unbroken,  and  he  is  torn  away 
from  a  society  which  had  never  before  experienced  the  like 
rupturing  of  bonds,  he  cannot  be  expected  to  leave  these 
chosen  companions  without  sorrowing  that  he  shall  see  their 
faces  no  more.  But  when  the  friends  who  had  attracted  him 
to  earth  have  been  one  by  one  taken  up  to  heaven,  then  the 
spiritual  magnets  have  an  augmented  power  upon  him,  and 
draw  him  in  a  new  direction.  He  looks  upward  from  this 
deserted  world  with  longings  to  revisit  those  who  have  gone 
before  him.  The  prospect  of  joining  hands  with  them  in 
their  happy  abode,  and  of  meeting  the  general  assembly  of 
the  church  of  the  first-born,  is  fitted  to  suggest  the  language, 
"I  would  not  live  alway";^  'The  day  of  one's  death  is 
better  than  the  day  of  one's  birth.'  ^  From  the  fact  that  the 
birth  of  Jesus  was  made  joyous  by  the  song  of  angels,  we 
should  expect  that  his  death  would  be  made  still  more  joyous 

1  Johnviii.  51.      ^  Matt.  xix.  29.      »  John  vi.  35.  See  also  ver.  27,  40,48,51. 
♦  Matt.  XXV.  31,  32.  6  job  vii.  16.  "  Eccl.  vii.  1. 


332  THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER. 

by  his  prospect  of  meeting  the  innumerable  company  of  glo- 
rified spirits.  He  had  come  unto  his  own,  and  his  own  had 
received  him  not.  But  little  sympathy  had  he  enjoyed  from 
men,  and  evil  and  few  had  been  the  days  of  the  years  of  his 
pilgrimage.  Hosts  of  his  friends  were  in  the  land  above 
the  stars.  When  he  left  the  world  he  would  go  to  the 
mansions  where  multitudes  of  his  reputed  relatives  were 
enthroned.  We  are  thus  led  to  anticipate  that  his  uniform 
language  would  be,  'If  ye  loved  me,  ye  would  have  rejoiced 
because  I  said,  I  go  unto  the  Father,  for  my  Father  is  in  a 
more  glorious  position  than  I ' ;  ^  "  He  that  hath  seen  me 
hath  seen  the  Father."-  He  had  promised  his  disciples, 
"  Ye  shall  sit  on  thrones,  judging  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel."  ^ 
Trusting  in  him,  one  of  his  apostles  uttered  the  triumphant 
word,  "  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  the  crown  of 
righteousness."  ^  This  apostle  had  once  dragged  women 
and  children  unto  prison  for  their  faith  in  Christ.  Shall  not 
the  last  hours  of  Christ  himself,  who  obtained  the  throne  and 
the  crown  for  penitent  men,  be  gladdened  by  the  prospect  of 
resuming  his  seat  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high, 
where  every  knee  was  to  bow  to  him,  and  all  the  angels  of 
God  were  to  worship  him  ?  Shall  he  not  exclaim  :  "  And  I, 
if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the  earth,  will  draw  all  men  unto  my- 
self "  ;^  "I  am  come  a  light  into  the  world,  that  whosoever 
believeth  on  me  may  not  abide  in  the  darkness  "  ;  ^  "  Come 
unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest "  V  But  while  hearkening  for  words  like 
these,  we  hear  him  exclaim,  in  the  garden,  '  My  soul  is 
exceeding  sorrowful,  so  that  I  am  brought  near  unto  death 
by  my  very  grief.' 

The  various  degrees  of  publicity  which  are  given  to  our 
sufferings  affect  the  manner  in  which  we  endure  them.  One 
will  be  often  restive  and  querulous  under  secret  vexations, 

1  John  xiv.  28.  ^  John  xiv.  9.        ^  Luke  xxii.  30.  *  2  Tim.  iv.  8. 

6  John  xii.  32.  «  John  xii.  46.  ^  Matt.  xi.  28. 


THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  333 

and  will  bear  with  exemplary  fortitude  the  troubles  which 
are  conspicuous  to  the  world.  "We  are  nerved  for  a  conflict 
by  the  gaze  of  men.  Their  sympathy  with  us  buoys  us  up 
against  discouragement ;  or  their  opposition  to  us  makes  us 
ashamed  to  tremble.  Many  a  martyr  has  borne  with  heroism 
before  his  enemies  what  he  would  recoil  from  before  his 
confiding  friends,  and  has  been  emboldened  by  his  friends  to 
stand  up  manfully  under  burdens  that  would  have  caused 
him  to  faint  being  alone.  The  publicity  of  our  Saviour's 
agonies,  then,  is  fitted  to  raise  an  expectation  that  he  would 
endure  them  without  a  tear.  They  had  been  foretold  by 
prophets ;  they  had  been  prefigured  by  sacrifices ;  while  he 
was  passing  through  them  a  great  cloud  of  witnesses  were 
looking  down  upon  him  from  on  high ;  his  enemies  were 
expecting  to  defeat  his  projects  ;  soldiers  and  priests,  Romans 
and  Jews  were  around  him,  buffeting,  reproaching,  deriding, 
triumphing  over  him.  Where  was  ever  more  incitement  to 
glory  in  infirmities,  to  count  it  all  joy  when  falling  into 
divers  afflictions,  to  take  up  the  cross  with  a  bold  heart,  and 
—  being  a  spectacle  to  angels  and  men,  being  heard  on 
earth,  in  heaven,  and  in  the  world  of  despair  —  to  cry  out, 
'  I  am  ready  to  be  offered  ;  I  have  fought  the  good  fight ;  I 
have  come  off  conqueror,  and  more  than  conqueror '  ?  For 
such  words  we  bend  forward  our  listening  ear,  but  we  catch 
the  sound :  '  My  soul  is  overladen  with  a  grief  which  well- 
nigh  presses  me  into  my  grave.' 

Men  are  influenced  in  their  mode  of  sustaining  troubles  by 
the  results  which  are  expected  to  flow  from  them.  The  mother 
will  forget  her  food  and  sleep  in  bending  over  the  pillow  of  her 
emaciated  child  ;  but  she  would  sink  under  the  half  of  these 
privations  were  it  not  for  the  lingering  hope  of  good  that  would 
come  from  them.  Pain  which  is  of  no  use  is  an  absolute  evil ; 
that  which  worketh  the  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness  is 
relatively  a  blessing.  It  is  a  good  when  needed  for  the 
highest  good.     In  this  view,  then,  the  anticipated  death  of 


334  THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER. 

Jesus  would  seem  fitted  to  fill  kis  mind  with  unspeakable 
consolation.  That  death  was  to  form  the  key-stone  in  the 
stupendous  system  of  grace.  An  enslaved  world  was  to  be 
liberated  by  it  from  bondage.  A  multitude  which  no  man 
can  number  were  to  be  ransomed  by  it  from  weeping  and 
wailing.  Not  men  only,  but  angels  also  were  to  learn  wisdom 
from  it ;  not  creatures  only,  but  the  Creator  also  was  to  be 
glorified  by  it.  That  death  was  the  fruit  of  an  eternal 
counsel  of  the  Father.  It  had  been  the  theme  of  rejoicing 
for  myriads  of  ages  with  the  sacred  Three.  In  the  retrospect 
of  this  death  an  apostle  has  said  that  on  account  of  it '  God 
hath  highly  exalted  the  Redeemer,  and  given  him  a  name 
above  every  name,  and  hath  raised  him  far  above  all  princi- 
pality and  power  and  might  and  dominion,  not  only  in  this 
world,  but  also  in  that  which  is  to  come.'  ^  Why,  then,  does 
not  the  sufferer  in  the  garden  utter  triumphant  words  in  the 
prospect  of  the  glories  which  his  apostle  described  in  retro- 
spect ?  Why  does  he  not  say,  "  In  the  volume  of  the  book  it 
is  written  of  me,  I  delight  to  do  thy  will,  0  my  God"  ?2  We 
listen  for  words  like  these.  We  are  disappointed  by  the 
words  :  '  My  soul  is  burdened  with  a  load  of  sorrow,  and  it  is 
weighing  me  down  into  my  grave.' 

The  providence  and  the  promises  of  Jehovah  are  fitted  to 
encourage  the  idea  that  such  a  man  as  Jesus  would  be  borne 
triumphantly  through  his  final  scene.  Weaker  men  than  he 
had  been  sustained  amid  tortures  the  mention,  or  even 
thought,  of  which  fills  us  with  shuddering.  Even  children 
have  been  comforted  while  the  flames  have  slowly  consumed 
their  bodies.  It  is  a  law  of  providence  to  bestow  blessings 
where  they  are  needed,  and  to  give  unexpected  aid  to  him 
that  is  ready  to  faint.  God  loves  to  draw  near  his  chosen 
when  earthly  friends  are  far  removed.  '  If  thou  prepare 
thine  heart,  and  stretch  out  thine  hands  toward  me,  then 
shalt  thou  lift  up  thy  face  with  joy.'  ^     '  When  thou  art  in 

1  Phil.  ii.  5-11 ;  Eph.  i.  20-23  ;  Ileb.  i.  >..        -^  Ps.  xl.  7,  8.        »  Job  xi.  13,  15. 


THE  SORROW  OP  THE  REDEEMER.  335 

tribulation,  if  thou  be  obedient  to  the  voice  of  the  Lord  he 
will  not  forsake  thee.'  ^  '  He  will  be  with  thee  and  will  save 
thee.  Fear  not,  therefore,  neither  be  dismayed.' ^  From  the 
fact  that  it  is  the  glory  of  God  to  be  a  refuge  in  times  of 
trouble,  and  that  Jesus  a  few  weeks  before  liis  decease  had 
said,  "  I  thank  thee  that  thou  heardest  me,  and  I  knew  that 
thou  hearest  me  always,"  ^  we  should  not  suppose  that  he 
would  be  "sorrowful  and  very  heavy"  in  view  of  the  hour 
when  God  ordinarily  chooses  to  manifest  the  timeliness  of 
his  grace.  We  should  imagine  that  the  Son  of  David,  who 
knew  no  sin,  would  express  a  more  cheerful  confidence  than 
David  himself,  who  was  shapen  in  iniquity ;  and  would  ex- 
claim, with  more  than  the  Psalmist's  emphasis,  "  Though  I 
walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear 
no  evil."*  That  Son  of  David  was,  in  our  view,  the  last  man 
who  could  hesitate  to  say :  "  Thou  art  with  me  ;  thy  rod  and 
thy  staff  they  comfort  me," — the  last  man  who  could  be 
exposed  to  the  peril  of  sinking  in  grief  while  on  the  eve  of 
rising  to  the  blessedness  of  his  Father's  presence  in  heaven. 

The  general  style  of  our  Saviour's  conversation  with  regard 
to  his  death  when  viewed  in  the  distance,  would  lead  us  to 
suppose  that  when  his  death  drew  near  he  would  meet  it 
with  composure.  There  is  one  class  of  men  who  reflect  but 
little  on  their  frailties,  and,  because  they  feel  courageous 
while  no  evil  is  near,  expect  to  feel  an  equal  boldness  as  the 
danger  grows  imminent.  Hence  they  fail  to  discipline  them- 
selves for  the  severities  of  their  coming  lot,  and  their  forti- 
tude wilts  away  at  the  first  approach  of  trouble.  Our  Saviour 
was  not  a  man  of  this  class.  There  is  another  order  of  men 
who  are  inured  to  habits  of  self-inspection,  and  feel  but  little 
confidence  in  their  preparation  for  disaster.  When,  however, 
they  arc  called  to  grapple  with  the  difficulties  which  they 
feared  they  develop  a  strength  which  before  had  lain  dormant. 
There  is  a  strange  rallying  of  their  powers  to  endure  what 

1  Deut.  iv.  30,  31.       -  Deut.  xxxi.  8.       *  John  xi.  41,  42.       ■•  Ps.  xxiii.  4. 


836  THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER. 

would  be  far  beyond  their  capacities  when  not  stimulated  by 
peril.  Such  men  know  not  what  they  can  do  or  bear,  and 
they  are  faint  in  the  prospective  dread  of  that  which  they 
finally  undergo  with  a  stout  heart.  Cranmer  was  amazed 
that  the  flames  at  which  he  shuddered  from  afar  became  so 
harmless  to  the  touch.  Now  we  should  suppose  that  the 
Nazarene,  who  had  been  so  thoughtful  in  regard  to  himself 
and  his  destiny,  so  discreet  in  his  prophecies  of  his  future 
pain,  so  far  from  unreasoning  diffidence  and  also  from  over- 
weening confidence  in  himself,  would  have  used  no  more 
triumphant  language  in  the  anticipation  of  his  woes  than  he 
used  in  the  endurance  of  them.  He  had  always  spoken  with 
solemn  dignity  in  the  forethought  of  his  last  hours.  There 
were  signs  of  his  being  ready  to  meet  the  worst  which  might 
come  upon  him,  of  his  courage  springing  from  deep  reflection, 
of  his  fortitude  remaining  as  firm  when  he  should  pass 
through  the  waters  as  when  he  took  a  distant  view  of  them ; 
all  these  signs  were  in  his  considerate  utterance  :  "  I  have  a 
baptism  to  be  baptized  with  ;  and  how  am  I  straitened  till  it 
be  accomplished."  ^  No  longer  ago  than  the  Monday  before 
his  death  he  uttered  the  deliberate  words  :  "  Now  is  my  soul 
troubled  ;  and  what  shall  I  say  ?  Father,  save  me  from  this 
hour.  But  for  this  cause  came  I  unto  this  hour.  Father, 
glorify  thy  name." '-^  But  as  early  as  the  next  Thursday 
evening  a  change  came  over  the  whole  spirit  of  his  conver- 
sation. He  fainted  and  trembled  and  wept,  with  strong 
crying  and  tears;  and  on  Friday  morning,  instead  of  ex- 
claiming, "  Mark  the  perfect  man,  and  behold  the  upright ; 
for  the  end  of  that  man  is  peace,"  ^  he  admitted  that  he 
suffered  an  anguish  so  extreme  as  to  border  on  the  extreme 
limit  of  possible  endurance. 

Nearly  all  the  reasons  which  have  now  been  named  for 
leading  us  to  anticipate  that  our  Lord  would  close  his  earthly 
mission  in  unalloyed  blessedness  are  gathered  up  in  the  fact 

1  Luke  xii.  50.  "  John  xii.  27,  28.  ^  pg,  xxxvii.  37. 


THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  337 

that  he  is  represented  by  inspired  men  as  uniting  a  divine 
with  a  human  nature  in  his  one  person  —  as  being  not  only 
man,  but  also  the  Creator,  the  Preserver,  the  Governor  of 
the  world,  knowing  all  things,  able  to  do  all  things,  reigning 
forever,  without  any  shadow  cast  by  any  change.  Because 
he  "  emptied  himself "  and  "  humbled  himself "  so  as  to 
become  obedient  unto  death,  he  was  to  be  crowned  with  the 
glory  and  honor  of  the  Mediator,  but  through  the  eternal 
ages  he  had  enjoyed  the  glory  and  honor  of  God;  for  'in 
the  beginning  the  Word  was  with  God  and  was  God.'  ^  We 
are  familiar  with  the  fact  that  the  higher  nature  of  a  man 
often  fortifies  his  lower  nature,  and  he  triumphs  over  his 
pain  of  body  because  his  mind  is  strong  in  faith  and  hope. 
Sometimes  he  enjoys  his  highest  blessedness  on  earth  when 
his  physical  organs  are  in  their  deepest  agony.  While  we 
meditate  on  the  divine  nature  of  the  God-man,  we  imagine 
that  it  will  buoy  up  the  human  nature  against  the  assaults 
of  fear,  that  he  who  said, '  I  have  power  to  lay  down  my  life, 
and  I  have  power  to  take  it  again,'  '^  "  I  am  the  resurrection 
and  the  life,"  ^  will  never  pass  through  a  scene  like  that  of 
Gethsemane.  We  are  not  prepared  to  learn  that  in  the 
garden  he  is  moving  to  and  fro,  now  walking,  now  standing 
still,  now  falling  down,  now  uttering  broken  prayers,  now 
perspiring  so  profusely  in  the  cool  air  that  when  he  stretches 
out  his  hand  the  drops  may  probably  be  heard  falling  from  it 
like  drops  of  blood.  If  he  himself  was  "  amazed  "  at  the 
burdens  laid  on  him,  we  may  well  be  amazed  at  his  cry,  "  My 
soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful,  even  unto  death." 

Wliy,  then,  was  the  soul  of  the  Mediator  cast  down,  and 
his  spirit  disquieted  within  him  ?  Great  is  this  mystery 
of  godliness.  We  may  detect  some  initial  lines  of  it,  but 
cannot  trace  them  to  their  end.  Here  and  there  we  may 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  causes  which  made  the  chief  martyr 

1  Phil.  ii.  7, 8  ;  Heb.  ii.  9  ;  John  i.  1.        •'  John  x.  18.     See  also  John  ii.  19. 
3  John  xi.  25.     See  also  v.  21. 


338  THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER. 

of  the  world  sink  down  in  the  anticipation  of  the  cross,  while 
the  most  delicate  of  his  followers  have  endured  the  cross 
not  only  with  submission,  but  with  triumph.  We  cannot 
learn  all  the  reasons  why,  although  the  soldiers  of  Immanuel 
have  gone  forth  to  their  last  conflict  with  shoutings,  the 
Captain  of  our  salvation  was  "  greatly  amazed  and  sore 
troubled  "  ^  on  the  eve  of  his  trial.  With  becoming  humility 
let  us  now  venture  on  some  intimations  of  some  reasons  why 
the  Redeemer  of  men  was  oppressed  with  grief  on  the  eve  of 
his  crucifixion. 

In  the  first  place,  we  can  form  no  adequate  idea  of  the 
pains  which  he  was  to  endure  upon  the  cross  viewed  simply 
as  an  instrument  of  torture  and  a  sign  of  disgrace.  We  do 
not  know  what  peculiar  experiences  he  was  to  pass  through 
as  a  private  individual, — experiences  which  might  have  over- 
whelmed him  even  if  he  had  sustained  no  peculiar  relation 
to  the  divine  law  and  government.  His  merely  physical 
pains  may  have  been  more  acute  than  those  of  other  crucified 
men.  We  do  not  forget  that  martyrs  have  not  only  hung 
upon  the  cross,  but,  as  in  the  case  of  Simon  Peter,  have  borne 
cruelties  superadded  to  those  of  the  fatal  wood.  Their  tor- 
tures have  been  prolonged  by  cunning  devices ;  refinements 
of  agony  have  been  thought  out  for  them  ;  the  nail,  the  knife, 
the  saw,  the  screw,  the  pincers,  the  rack,  the  fire,  the  ice, 
reptiles  and  vultures  and  beasts  of  prey  have  been  studied  in 
their  capabilities,  so  that  they  might  all  be  applied  in  slow 
succession  to  the  victim,  who  was  made  by  artificial  means 
to  linger  until  every  muscle  was  sundered  with  a  cautious 
violence,  and  not  a  nerve  could  stir  without  its  appropriate 
pang. 

There  are  certain  aspects,  however,  in  which  these  in- 
genious applications  may  have  resulted  in  less  pain  of  body 
than  was  borne  by  our  Saviour.  We  are  unable  to  estimate 
the  peculiarity  of  his  sensitiveness  to  all  instruments  of 
^  Mark  xir.  33. 


THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  339 

torture.     We  know  that  among  men  there  is  sometimes  a 
difference  in  the  degree  of  their  susceptibility  to  pain  cor- 
responding with  the  difference  in  the  degree  of  their  spiritual 
refinement.      Many  a  rude   barbarian  will  pass  unmoved 
through  tortures  appalling  enough  to  weary  out  the  life  of  a 
Fenclon  or  Cowper.     Those  filaments  of   our  nature  trans- 
mitting sensations  to  the  mind  are  in  some  men  so  delicate 
as  to  vibrate  like  the  strings  of  a  wind-harp  to  the  slightest 
touch.     Who,  then,  can  tell  what  unparalleled  sensitiveness 
a  man  may  acquire  whose  human  attributes  have  become 
united  with  the  divine  ?     Who  can  imagine  the  delicacy  of 
fibre  which  he  may  possess  whose  feelings  have  never  been 
blunted  by   one   sin,   and  whose   whole   system  has    been 
quickened  by  the  indwelling  of  a  mind  infinite  in  its  activity  ? 
Not   only  his   physical,  but  also  his  mental,  experiences 
relating  to  himself  as  a  mere  private  individual  may  have 
been  far  more  painful  than  those  of  any  other  crucified  one. 
He  had  an  acute  feeling  of  brotherliness  toward  his  fellow- 
men,  and  this  feeling  may  have  made  him  the  more  sensitive 
to  their  want  of  brotherliness  toward  him.     He  felt  a  peculiar 
regard  for  the  decorum  and  the  propriety  of  things,  the  fit- 
ness of  returning  friendship  for  friendship  ;  and  when  his 
charity  to  men  was  reciprocated  by  their  persecution  of  him 
he  was  alive  to  the  anomaly  —  the  dissonance  between  true 
love  in  the  man  who  cherishes  it  and  base  ingratitude  in  the) 
man  who  receives  the  love.     Common  sufferers  endeavor  tof  -^ 
divert  their  minds  from  pain;  he  sought  for  no  diversion.' 
He  might  have  mitigated  his  grief  ;  he  preferred  not  to  call 
for  the  twelve  legions  of  angels,  not  to  drink  the  wine  mingled 
with  myrrh.     The  more  intense  his  pain,  so  much  the  sweeter 
would  be  his  submission  to   the   Father  who   was   making 
darkness  his  pavilion.     Perhaps  the  Man  of  sorrows  chose  to 
endure  the  pains  of  the  cross  because  they  were  so  poignant. 
The  exact  balance  of  his  susceptibilities  is  compatible  with 
their  exquisite  sensitiveness  to  every  object,  whether  agree- 
able or   disagreeable  ;   and  as  such   a  being  when   among 


340  THE  SOREOW  OF  THE  REDEEMER. 

congenial  elements  would  be  happier  than  any  other,  so  when 
exposed  to  the  rudenesses  and  the  roughnesses  of  a  world 
which  had  no  sympathy  with  his  virtue  he  may  well  have 
been  a  man  of  unwonted  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  pecu- 
liar grief.  Heaven  was  his  home  ;  for  heaven  was  he  made ; 
and  therefore  he  may  have  been  agitated  by  the  sinners  who 
caused  his  death  as  by  a  generation  of  vipers.  We  read  that 
he  "  endured  the  cross,  despising  the  shame" ;  but  he  felt  the 
shame  which  he  despised,  and  his  merit  for  overlooking  it  is 
the  greater  because  he  keenly  appreciated  the  words,  "  Cursed 
is  every  one  that  hangeth  on  a  tree."  His  sense  of  honor 
was  kindred  with  his  sense  of  honesty,  and  must  have  been 
shocked  when  his  perfect  holiness  was  perceived  only  to  be 
"  despised  and  rejected  of  men,"  '  when  all  they  who  saw 
him  laughed  him  to  scorn,  and  did  shoot  out  the  lip  and 
shake  the  head,  saying,  He  trusted  in  the  Lord  that  he  would 
deliver  him;  let  him  deliver  him,  seeing  he  delighted  in 
him.'  Who  knows  how  quick  he  was  to  feel  the  pangs 
which  would  have  escaped  the  consciousness  of  a  more 
callous  mind,  —  the  pangs  which  came  from  his  feeling  of 
desertion  when  his  disciples  forsook  him,  from  his  contempt 
of  meanness  when  one  of  them  said,  "  Hail,  Master ;  and 
kissed  him." 

It  may  be  said  that  the  private  and  individual  pains  which 
our  Redeemer  endured  on  the  cross  were  not  worthy  of  his 
sad  anticipation ;  but  we  must  remember  that  his  pains  were 
peculiar.  They  were  mementos  of  all  his  antecedent  suf- 
ferings. They  were  inflicted  on  him  without  his  having 
deserved  them.  Tliey  were  worthy  of  being  inflicted  by  the 
Father,  and  therefore  were  worthy  of  being  felt  in  all  their 
fulness  by  the  Son.  It  is  not  our  mission  in  life  to  suffer ; 
it  was  his  mission  to  suffer,  therefore  he  was  sensitive  to  all 
the  causes  of  suffering  ;  he  did  not  lose  the  conviction  that 
he  was  hated  because  he  deserved  to  be  loved,  that  he  was 
persecuted  because  he  was  the  friend  and  servant  of  his 
persecutors.     The  signal  peculiarity  of  his  sufferings  was, 


THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  341 

that  he  hated  sin  with  a  perfect  hatred,  while  he  was  sur- 
rounded with  sinners  who  exhibited  their  true  character  in 
their  enmity  to  him.  The  words  uttered  by  the  Psahnist  in 
shadowing  forth  the  ideal  of  human  perfection  may  have 
been  fitly  repeated  by  him  who  realized  that  ideal :  '  I  am  a 
worm  and  no  man,  a  reproach  of  men,  and  despised  of  the 
people,  for  dogs  have  compassed  me ;  the  assembly  of  the 
wicked  have  inclosed  me:  they  pierced  my  hands  and  my 
feet.  Bulls  of  Bashan  have  beset  me  round.  They  gaped 
upon  me  with  their  mouths  as  a  ravening  and  a  roaring  lion. 
I  am  poured  out  like  water,  and  all  my  bones  are  out  of  joint. 
My  heart  is  like  wax  ;  it  is  melted  within  me.'  ^ 

In  the  second  place,  our  minds  are  too  blunt  for  any  ade- 
quate appreciation  of  the  sufferings  which  our  Redeemer 
both  anticipated  and  endured  in  his  sympathy  with  the  pains 
of  his  fellow-men.  The  New  Testament  exhibits  many  proofs 
of  his  commiseration  for  the  corporeal  woes  of  his  friends 
and  of  strangers.  He  had  none  of  that  affected  spirituality 
—  a  mark  of  one-sided  goodness  —  which  pretends  to  over- 
look the  physical  pains  of  men  for  the  sake  of  concentrating 
the  regard  upori  their  mental  troubles.  He  was  so  united 
with  our  race  that  when  one  member  suffered  he  was  quick 
to  suffer  with  it,  and  when  children  were  needlessly  rebuked 
it  was  as  if  a  dart  had  pierced  the  apple  of  his  eye.^  He  laid 
a  marvellous  emphasis  on  the  gift  of  a  cup  of  cold  water  to 
the  lowliest  of  his  followers.^  Before  the  most  august 
assemblage  in  history  he  will  say  to  them  on  his  right  hand, 
'  I  was  an  hungered,  and  ye  gave  me  meat ;  thirsty,  and  ye 
gave  me  drink ' ;  and  to  them  on  his  left  hand,  '  I  was  sick, 
and  ye  visited  me  not;  in  prison,  and  ye  came  not  unto 
me.'  *  Even  a  few  minutes  before  he  was  nailed  to  the  cross 
he  was  touched  at  the  heart  by  seeing  the  tears  of  those  who 
sorrowed  for  him,  and   he  cried  out,  '  Daughters  of  Jeru- 

1  Ps.  xxii.  6,  16,  12,  13,  14.  2  Mark  x.  14.  8  Matt.  x.  42. 

*  Matt.  XXV.  31-46. 


342  THE  SOEROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER. 

salem,  weep  not  for  me.  but  weep  for  yourselves  ^  and  your 
infant  ones,  for  lo,  the  days  are  coming  when  the  mother's 
soul  shall  be  rent  asunder  with  woe,  and  tlirice  blessed  shall 
be  a  childless  woman.'  And  even  as  he  hung  upon  the  cross, 
whence  he  surveyed  the  wants  of  a  world  beneath  him,  he 
could  not  forget  the  necessities  of  her  who  was  verifying  the 
prophecy  of  Simeon,  "  A  sword  shall  pierce  through  thine 
own  soul,"  2  but  let  himself  down  from  his  lofty  thoughts  to 
provide  a  home  for  her  with  his  most  domestic  disciple. 
When  we  read  of  his  commiseration  for  individual  sufferers, 
can  we  presume  to  estimate  the  liveliness  of  his  sympathy 
as  he  took  at  once  into  his  comprehensive  view  the  sicknesses 
and  the  dying  pains  of  the  whole  race  with  whom  he  had 
joined  himself  in  brotherhood  ?  And  if  he  were  thus  sensi- 
tive to  the  frailties  of  the  body,  can  we  learn  how  poignant 
were  his  griefs  as  he  embraced  in  one  and  the  same  thought 
all  the  mental  woes  that  were  to  come  or  had  come  upon 
all  men  —  the  suspense,  the  hope  deferred,  the  fear,  the 
disappointment,  the  sorrow,  the  anguish,  the  despair  which 
would  consume  or  had  consumed  the  spirit  of  the  race  ?  One 
who  had  been  in  his  own  view  the  chief  of  sinners  exclaimed, 
"  I  have  great  sorrow  and  unceasing  pain  ii:i*my  heart.  For 
I  could  wish  that  I  myself  were  anathema  from  Christ  for  my 
brethren's  sake,  my  kinsmen  according  to  the  flesh."  ^  This 
grief  of  the  apostle  was  inspired  by  his  Master.  What,  then, 
must  have  been  the  Master's  grief  as  he  cast  his  mind's  eye 
over  the  multitudes  who  would  forever  endure  the  pain  of  an 
accusing  conscience.  Their  troubles  in  this  life  were  a 
mirror  in  which  he  discerned  their  trouble  in  the  life  to  come. 
The  temporal  death  of  unrepenting  men  is  their  entrance 
into  eternal  death,  and  the  temporal  death  of  sanctified  men 
is  a  memento  of  the  eternal  death  which  was  threatened 
to  them  in  the  law.  We  may  suppose  that  there  was  a 
spiritual  meaning  in  the  tears  of  our  Lord  at  the  grave  of 
Lazarus,  whom  in  a  few  minutes  he  was  to  call  forth  from 

1  Luke  xxiii.  28.  2  £,^^6  ii.  35.  »  Rom.  ix.  2,  3. 


THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  343 

that  grave.     Did  he  weep  merely  at  the   thought  of   death 
as  a  physical  calamity,  and  of  bereavement  as  a  temporary 
evil,  or  did  he  weep  at  the  thought  of  death  as  a  symbol  of 
the  eternal  woes  which  had  fallen  and  were  to  fall  on  incor- 
rigible transgressors  ?     There  was  a  spiritual  meaning  in  the 
words  which  he  uttered  when  he  wept  over  the  devoted  city. 
Did  he  shed  those  tears  merely  because  one  stone  was  not  to  ^ 
be  left  on  another,  or  did  he  shed  them  because  the  un-\ 
humbled  citizens  were  to  be  more  wretched  than  the  citizens  i 
of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  Tyre  and  Sidon,  at  the  last  day  ?  | 
Wlien  he  cried,  '  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  how  often  would  I, 
and  ye  would  not,'  ^  he  uttered  mentally  the  same  words  to 
all  persevering  transgressors,  and  mentally  repeated  the  ex- 
postulation of  his  Father, '  How  shall  I  give  you  up  ?  how 
shall  I  make  thee  as  Admah  ?  how  shall  I  set  thee  as  Zeboim  ? 
Mine  heart  is  turned  within  me ;  my  repentings  are  kindled 
together.'  ^ 

We  must  be  careful  not  to  imply  that  our  Redeemer 
overlooked  the  slightest  bodily  or  mental  pain  of  either 
his  friends  or  his  enemies.  We  must  also  be  careful  not  to 
imply  that  he  regarded  any  pain  either  of  body  or  of  mind 
in  this  life  as  the  ultimate  evil.  His  grief  may  have  been 
inconceivably  aggravated  by  the  thought  that  as  the  chastise- 
ments in  this  world  are  symbols  of  the  punishment  in  the 
future  world,  so  this  punishment  was  to  be  inflicted  "by 
himself  as  the  final  Judge  ;  inflicted  because  he  could  not 
honor  the  divine  justice  and  the  divine  law  unless  he  punished 
the  transgressors  who  persevered  in  rejecting  his  grace. 

In  the  third  place,  our  minds  are  too  coarse  to  form  an\ 
adequate  idea  of  the  sorrow  which  our  Redeemer  felt  and 
anticipated  in  his  meditation  on  the  sin  of  men.  We  cannot' 
duly  estimate  the  evil  of  sin ;  for  we  have  committed  it,  andi 
have  thus  made  our  consciences  obtuse.  We  can  form  no 
just  conception  of  the  displacency  which  we  should  have  felt 

1  Matt,  xxiii.  37.  2  Hosea  xi.  8. 


344  THE  SOEROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER. 

in  view  of  transgression  if  we  had  never  blurred  our  moral 
sense  by  violating  its  commands.  So  far  as  wickedness  is 
viewed  in  its  intrinsic  relations,  the  ever  blessed  Jehovah 
says,  '  It  is  a  trouble  unto  me,  I  am  weary  to  bear  it.'  ^ 
'  Men  have  wearied  me  by  their  iniquities.'  ^  '  I  cannot  away 
with  them.' 3  "  Ah,  I  will  ease  me  of  mine  adversaries."* 
Although  the  Psalmist  had  obscured  his  views  of  moral 
wrong  by  having  indulged  in  it,  yet  he  said :  '  The  sorrows 
of  death  compass  me,  and  the  pains  of  hell  get  hold  upon 
me.'  ^  How  much  more  bitter  must  have  been  the  exclama- 
tions of  him  whose  moral  sense  was  kept  alive  by  his  uniform 
abhorrence  of  moral  wrong,  who  yet  was  "  made  to  be  sin 
on  our  behalf  that  we  might  become  the  righteousness  of 
God  in  him."^  While  enduring  his  pains  of  body,  he  may 
not  have  turned  away  his  mind  from  the  iniquity  of  which  his 
bodily  pain  was  a  memento.  The  nails  which  fastened  him 
to  the  cross  may  have  fixed  his  attention  upon  our  ill-desert 
of  which  his  cross  was  the  sign.  The  sharpest  spear  that 
pierced  him  was  the  guilt  of  men,  and  for  a  time  every  sen- 
sil)ility  of  his  nature  may  have  been  grated  on  by  every  form 
of  sin,  —  the  sin  of  his  ancestors,  for  whom  he  felt  a  filial 
reverence ;  the  sin  of  his  relatives,  with  whom  he  had  lived 
in  fraternal  love  ;  the  sin  of  men  whom  he  had  incorporated 
with  himself  as  a  branch  with  the  vine ;  the  sin  of  his  min- 
isters, of  his  adopted  children,  of  those  who  in  one  sense 
represented  him  as  he  in  another  sense  represented  them,  of 
men  whom  he  viewed  as  a  kind  of  second  self.  It  was  the 
sin  of  the  whole  race,  for  which  he  felt  a  shame  far  more 
overwhelming  than  the  shame  of  his  cross. 

"We  have  alluded  to  the  union  of  a  divine  with  a  human 
nature  in  the  person  of  our  Lord  ;  to  the  mysterious  fact 
that  his  human  nature  was  not  delivered  by  his  divine 
nature  from  all  the  terrors  in  Gcthsemane  —  that  the  Son 
of  Mary  was  not  so  invigorated  ]3y  his  relation  to  the  Son  of 

1  Isa.  i.  14.  -^  Isa.  xliii.  24.  ^  jga.  i.  13. 

*  Isa.  i.  24.  6  Pij.  cxvi.  3.  6  2Cor.  v.  21. 


THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  345 

God  that  he  could  spend  the  evening  before  his  crucifixion 
in  unmingled  joj.  It  may  be  that  his  divine  nature,  instead 
of  making  his  burden  the  lighter,  made  it  the  heavier.  In 
his  divine  nature  the  God-man  had  a  clear  perception  of  all 
the  members  of  our  race  in  all  past  and  future  time,  of  all 
the  iniquities  to  be  committed  by  you  and  me,  of  every  stain 
upon  your  and  my  conscience,  of  all  the  woes  clustering 
around  our  misdeeds,  of  the  inherent  mischief  and  the  es- 
sential drift  of  every  form  of  disobedience,  of  its  very  spirit 
as  an  intrinsic  evil,  of  its  tendencies  to  unending  evil.  His 
abhorrence  of  sin  was  infinite  like  his  comprehension  of  it. 
We  cannot  imagine  the  effects  of  this  perfect  abhorrence 
and  this  unlimited  comprehension  upon  the  human  nature 
which  had  been  taken  up  into  a  union  with  the  divine. 
Therefore  we  cannot  fathom  the  depth  of  affliction  from 
which  the  sufferer  in  Gethsemane  sent  up  the  cry :  Let  this 
extreme  of  bitterness  in  the  cup  of  my  grief  and  shame  pass 
from  me  that  I  drink  it  not ;  let  the  dregs  of  this  cup  pass 
from  me,  for  it  is  the  cup  of  sorrow  and  sadness  in  view  of 
the  sin  of  men  with  whose  nature  I  have  identified  myself ; 
the  sin  of  men  who  will  remain  my  enemies,  and  on  whom  I 
must  pronounce  a  condemning  sentence ;  the  sin  of  men 
whom  I  shall  make  my  friends,  and  whom  I  shall  welcome 
to  my  right  hand ;  for  even  the  men  who  do  the  will  of  my 
Father  which  is  in  heaven,  and  are  saved  by  my  grace,  and 
are  my  brothers  and  sisters  and  mothers,  are  yet  stained 
with  the  iniquities  which  are  so  loathsome  to  me. 

In  the  fourth  place,  we  cannot  fathom  the  mystery  of  the 
pains  which  our  Saviour  endured  as  an  expiatory  and  a  pro- 
pitiatory sacrifice  for  sin.  Our  endless  punishment  would 
have  been  an  expression  of  the  divine  holiness  and  justice ; 
the  Mediator  substituted  himself  for  us,  and  his  chastisement 
was  equivalent  to  our  punishment  in  expressing  what  would 
otherwise  have  been  expressed  in  the  sanction  of  the  law. 
There  was  a  sword   uplifted  ;   it  was  to  fall   upon  us ;  the 


B46  THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER. 

Mediator  stepped  before  us,  and  took  upon  himself  the  wound 
which  was  a  substitute  for  our  death.  It  was  a  symbol  of  the 
moral  penalty  deserved  by  all  men.  It  was  a  type  of  the 
moral  penalty  which  will  be  suffered  by  all  men  who  remain 
incorrigible. 

In  considering  his  work  of  atonement  we  must  remember 
two  facts :  One  is,  that  a  system  of  costly  sacrifices  for  sin 
was  prescribed  in  the  Levitical  code ;  another  is,  that  this 
impressive  system  was  a  type  of  the  one  sacrifice  on  Golgotha. 
We  must  remember  two  other  facts :  One  is,  that  the  Levitical 
sacrifices  for  sin  were  substituted  for  the  penalty  threatened 
in  the  Levitical  law ;  another  is,  that  the  archetypal  sacrifice 
on  Golgotha  was  substituted  for  the  penalty  of  the  moral  law, 
the  universal  and  eternal  law  of  God.  We  must  remember 
two  other  facts :  One  is,  that  our  temporal  death  and  the 
the  evils  antecedent  to  it  are  said  to  be  a  curse  inflicted  on 
account  of  sin  ;  the  other  is,  that  Christ  as  our  representative 
is  said  to  have  "  become  a  curse  for  us."  ^  The  word  came  to 
Adam :  "  Cursed  is  the  ground  for  thy  sake  " ;  the  second 
Adam  walked  over  the  ground,  and  the  curse  was  not  turned 
away  from  him  as  he  took  his  painful  steps.  The  innocent 
suffered  for  the  guilty.  His  vicarious  chastisement  was  an 
expiation  for  our  iniquities.  It  was  as  well  fitted  as  our 
eternal  punishment  would  have  been  to  counteract  their 
vicious  influence,  repair  the  damage  which  they  would  have 
done  to  the  interests  of  a  pure  moral  government,  uphold  the 
dignity  of  this  government,  the  sanctity  of  its  mandates,  the 
rectitude  of  its  sanctions.  The  vicarious  chastisement  was 
not  merely  piacular,  it  was  propitiatory  likewise.  It  not 
only  removed  the  obstacles  to  our  pardon,  but  involved  new 
motives  for  the  pardon.  It  not  only  prevented  the  necessity 
of  exercising  justice,  but  made  it  both  consistent  and  desir- 
able to  exercise  grace.  It  presented  reasons  for  our  relief 
from  remorse  and  its  attendant  pains.  It  thus  conciliated 
the   terrific  power  of  conscience,  and  saved  it  from  its  in- 

1  See  Gen.  iii.  14-19  ;  Gal.  iii.  13. 


THE  SORKOW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  347 

stinctive  fears.  ^  As  it  propitiated  the  lawgiver  within  us, 
so  it  propitiated  the  Lawgiver  above  us.  It  involved  reasons 
for  his  bestowing  a  reward  upon  our  Representative,  for 
honoring  him  with  a  crown  of  which  the  souls  of  regenerate 
men  are  the  jewels,  for  giving  him  '  the  heathen  for  his  in- 
heritance and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  for  his  pos- 
session.' 2 

If  we  had  borne  the  penalty  threatened  by  the  Lawgiver, 
that  penalty  would  have  honored  the  moral  attributes  which 
he  has  revealed  in  his  law ;  the  substituted  pains  of  Christ 
have  revealed  and  honored  the  same  attributes.  Even  if  he 
had  been  stoical,  as  he  never  was,  in  view  of  his  pains  as 
private  and  individual,  they  would  have  been  aggravated  by 
the  fact  of  their  public  relation,  by  the  fact  that  they  were 
borne  for  the  race,  were  chastisements  for  the  sin  of  his 
fellow-men,  were  signs  of  the  abhorrence  with  which  his 
Father  viewed  it,  were  symbols  of  the  penalty  which  is  due 
to  it,  were  types  of  the  moral  penalty  which  on  the  principles 
of  mere  law  will  follow  it.  We  have  sinned,  our  chastise- 
ments are  deserved  by  us,  and  therefore  have  one  meaning ; 
Christ  had  not  sinned,  his  chastisements  were  not  deserved 
by  him,  and  therefore  have  a  different  meaning. 

If  we  had  borne  the  threatened  penalty  it  would  have 
tended  to  forewarn  other  minds  of  the  evil  resulting  from 
transgression  ;  the  substituted  pains  of  Christ  have  the  same 
tendency  and  intent.  Even  on  his  way  to  the  cross  he  fore- 
warned men  of  the  punishment  awaiting  the  incorrigible. 
He  intimated  that  if  the  divine  compassion  would  not  inter- 
pose to  relieve  an  innocent  man  from  the  chastisement  not 
deserved  by  him,  but  inflicted  for  the  sin  of  others,  then  the 
divine  compassion  would  not  interpose  to  relieve  guilty  men 
from  the  punishment  deserved  by  them  and  inflicted  on 
account  of  their  own  sin.  A  signal  emphasis  is  due  to  the 
words  uttered  between  the  scene  of  his  trial  and  the  scene 

1  See  sermon  on  "  Conscience,"  pp.  260,  264,  265,  275,  279,  283,  284,  289, 290. 
2P8.  ii.  8;  Isa.  liii.  10, 12. 


348  THE  SORROW  OP  THE  REDEEMER. 

of  his  execution :  "  If  they  do  these  things  in  the  green  tree, 
what  shall  be  done  in  the  dry  ?"  ^  These  words  define  the 
chastisement  of  our  Lord  as  involving  not  merely  a  promise 
to  his  friends,  but  also  a  threatening  to  his  implacable 
enemies.  If  under  the  government  of  God  a  man  must 
suffer  who  has  allied  himself  with  transgressors  but  himself 
is  no  transgressor,  how  much  more  must  men  suffer  who 
have  been  actual  transgressors  and  are  as  fit  for  punishment 
as  tinder  is  fit  for  the  flame.  If  God  will  not  turn  his  laws 
out  of  their  course  in  order  to  secure  the  perfect  happiness 
of  a  perfect  man,  much  less  will  he  turn  his  laws  out  of 
their  course  in  order  to  secure  the  perfect  happiness  of  guilty 
men.  "When  we  reflect  on  the  dignity  of  our  Redeemer, 
the  loveliness  of  his  character,  the  severity  of  his  pains,  the 
prophecies  which  he  uttered  in  reference  to  his  own  chastise- 
ment and  the  future  punishment  of  men,  we  feel  as  sure 
that  incorrigible  men  will  be  punished  according  to  their 
demerit  as  we  should  feel  if  penitent  men,  instead  of  being 
redeemed,  had  been  actually  punished  according  to  their 
demerit.  His  pains  express  what  their  punishment  would 
have  expressed.  Hence  it  is  fit  that  he  should  have  antici- 
pated them  with  dread.  They  not  only  hold  out  a  menace 
to  the  incorrigible,  but  they  justify  the  infliction  of  all  the 
pain  which  is  menaced.  They  are  an  expression  of  the  love 
which  explains  and  is  explained  by  the  doctrine  of  punish- 
ment. It  is  not  the  mere  sentiment  of  love ;  it  is  the  love 
which  comprehends  justice  and  proves  the  necessity  of  it. 
It  is  the  principle  of  love,  and  when  it  promises  that  "whoso- 
ever believeth  on  "  Christ  shall  have  eternal  life,  it  threatens 
that  whosoever  believeth  not  shall  "  perish."  ^  When  clouds 
were  around  the  throne  our  suffering  Redeemer  kept  up  his 
trust  in  the  Lawgiver,  and  thus  proved  that  the  Lawgiver  is 
trustworthy  even  in  his  severest  inflictions.  While  darkness 
was  the  pavilion  of  him  who  was  putting  his  Son  to  grief, 
the  grieved  One  addressed  him,  not  with  the  bare  appellative 

1  Luke  xxiii.  31.     See  also  1  Pet.  iv.  17,  18.  ^  joim  ij;.  ig. 


THE  SORKOW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  349 

"  God  "  or  "  0  God,"  but  uttered  and  repeated  the  words 
"  My  God,"  and  thus  clung  with  confidence  to  him  by  whom 
he  was  '  stricken,  smitten,  and  afifiicted.'  He  was  afflicted 
for  others,  and  they  deserved  what  lie  suffered. 

The  nature  of  the  sacrificial  pains  inflicted  on  our  Substi- 
tute during  his  entire  life,  but  emphatically  in  his  death,  is 
intimated  in  the  fact  that  He  whose  word  cannot  be  broken 
had  promised  to  deliver  pious  men  from  evil,  but  he  inflicted 
the  evil  upon  the  only  pious  man  who  did  not  deserve  it. 
"We  do  not  dare  to  imagine  the  peculiarities  of  expression 
with  which  the  Father's  eye  looked  upon  the  Son  or  the  Son's 
eye  looked  upon  the  Father  when  "  it  pleased  the  Lord  to 
bruise  him."  The  moment  came,  however,  when  the  eye  of 
the  Father  was  hidden  from  that  of  the  Son.  "  My  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?"  are  the  words  which  he 
cried  out ;  the  Evangelists  add  that  he  cried  out  with  a  loud 
voice.  They  repeat  the  original  Aramaic  words  which  he 
uttered,  and  then  add  a  translation  of  the  words.  Thus  they 
emphasize  the  lamentation,  and  '  seem  unwilling  that  a  single 
tone  of  it  should  be  lost.'  ^  It  is  the  law  of  God  not  to  abandon 
men  unless  they  abandon  him.  Solemnly  and  repeatedly  he 
explained  to  his  ancient  people  the  meaning  of  his  providence 
in  abandoning  them,  and  the  principle  on  which  he  marked 
them  with  this  sign  of  his  displeasure.  "  My  anger,"  he  says, 
"  shall  be  kindled  against  them  in  that  day,  and  I  will  forsake 
them,  and  I  will  hide  my  face  from  them,  and  they  shall  be 
devoured,  and  many  evils  and  troubles  shall  befall  them  ; 
so  that  they  will  say  in  that  day,  Are  not  these  evils  come 
upon  us,  because  our  God  is  not  among  us  ?"  ^  "  The  Lord 
is  with  you  while  ye  be  with  him,  and  if  ye  seek  him  he  will 
be  found  of  you,  but  if  ye  forsake  him  he  will  forsake  you."^ 
"For  the  Lord  loveth. judgment  and  forsaketh  not  his  saints, 
they  are  preserved  forever ;  but  the  seed  of  the  wicked  shall 

1  See  Note  at  the  end  of  the  sermon,  p.  352  sq. 

2  Deut.  xxxi.  17.  See  likewise  2  Kings  xxi.  11-14;  Isa.  lix.  2  ;  Lam.  v.  20- 
22  ;  Ezek.  xxxix.  23. 

8  2  Chron.  xv.  2. 


350  THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER. 

be  cut  off."  1  The  significant  fact  is,  that  Christ  did  not 
forsake  his  Father,  but  his  Father  forsook  him.  We  often 
read  that  God  hides  his  face  from  men  on  the  ground  of 
their  iniquity.^  "  "Wlierefore  hidest  thou  thy  face,  and  boldest 
me  for  thine  enemy  ?"^  is  the  question  of  one  who  had 
attempted  to  cover  up  his  sins.  "  Why  hast  thou  forsaken 
me  ?"  is  the  question  of  One  who  was  bearing  marks  of  the 
divine  indignation  against  the  sinners  in  whose  place  he  stood. 
Was  his  displacency  of  conscience  toward  their  sin  more 
painful  to  him  than  their  remorse  of  conscience  was  painful 
to  them,  and  did  his  moral  sense  give  him  no  such  prophecy 
of  coming  bliss  as  is  given  to  the  saints  in  whose  stead  he 
died  ?  In  his  act  of  bearing  their  sins  was  his  agony  on  account 
of  them  so  great  as  to  expel  all  soothing  thoughts  ?  While 
he  was  hanging  between  two  malefactors,  and  forsaken  by 
his  disciples,  was  he  on  a  sudden  shut  out  from  participation 
in  his  Father's  joy  ?  Did  he  perceive  nothing  more  than  his 
Father's  abhorrence  of  sin  and  justice  to  the  sinner  ?  Was 
his  mind  absorbed  with  the  loathsomeness  of  transgression 
and  the  Lawgiver's  determination  to  punish  it  ?  Did  he 
catch  no  glimpse  of  those  bright  designs  which  had  cheered 
the  saints  of  old  ?  Did  he  in  an  ominous  solitude,  without 
the  faintest  beam  of  sympathy  from  the  spirits  around  the 
throne,  look  steadfastly  into  and  through  the  moral  results 
of  sin,  —  into  and  through  the  abyss  which  was  never  to  be 
uncovered  without  relief  before  any  other  pure  spirit  ?  Was 
even  his  profound  mind  left  to  wonder  at  the  strangeness  of 
the  pain  that  seized  him  ?  and  did  he  therefore  express  his 
amazement  in  his  inquiry  for  the  reasons  of  his  being  left 
alone  to  struggle  with  death  and  the  principalities  of  evil 
whose  hour  had  come  ? 

It  is  good  that  many  mysteries  should  darken  the  scene  of 
our  Redeemer's  crucifixion,  for  thereby  our  minds  go  round 
about  it  wondering  at  the  richness  that  lies  hidden  within  it. 
•But  amid  the  many  mysteries  some  things  are  plain.     They 

1  Ps.  xxxvii.  28.  -  Jer.  xxxiii.  5.  **  Job  xiii.  24. 


THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  351 

are  made  plain  by  the  forebodings  of  our  Redeemer  in  the 
garden.  It  is  plain  that  we  are  redeemed  "with  precious 
blood,  as  of  a  lamb  without  blemish  and  without  spot,  even 
the  blood  of  Christ " ;  ^  that  '  all  we  like  sheep  have  gone 
astray,'  and  have  deserved  to  be  wounded  for  our  own 
transgressions, '  but  the  Lord  hath  laid  upon  him  the  iniquity 
of  us  all,  and  by  his  stripes  we  are  healed  ;  that  the  chastise- 
ment of  our  peace  was  upon  him,'  ^  and  his  endurance  of  it 
was  put  in  the  place  of  the  punishment  due  to  us.  The 
fearful  apprehensions  of  our  Redeemer  in  the  garden  lead  us 
to  the  faith  that  his  chastisement  was  of  equal  avail  with  our 
punishment  in  vindicating  the  justice  and  veracity  of  him 
who  had  threatened  the  punishment.  The  Mediator  came 
into  the  world,  not  in  order  that  he  might  exercise  the  inward 
virtues  required  of  him  by  the  precepts  of  the  law,  but  in 
order  that  he  might  manifest  the  rectitude  of  the  law  in  its 
sanctions  as  well  as  precepts.  He  came  not  for  the  mere 
purpose  of  having  an  abhorrence  of  sin,  but  for  the  purpose 
of  expressing  his  Father's  abhorrence  of  it,  and  of  enduring 
the  chastisement  which  was  the  sign  of  that  abhorrence.  He 
came  not  merely  for  the  sake  of  feeling  love  to  men  and  of 
doing  good  to  them,  but  for  the  purpose  of  exhibiting  and 
honoring  the  justice  of  the  Father  in  the  penalties  which  He 
had  threatened  to  sinners.  We  cannot  sympathize  with 
men  who  think  that  the  death  of  our  Saviour  has  been  com- 
paratively overrated,  and  that  his  terror  in  view  of  it  was 
excessive.  If  his  fears  were  unreasonable,  then  the  colors 
in  which  the  apostles  have  pictured  his  reward  are  exag- 
gerated. In  order  to  be  of  equal  avail  with  the  penalty 
which  we  deserved,  the  vicarious  chastisement  must  have  been 
overwhelming.  The  height  of  the  Redeemer's  joy  in  the 
retrospect  of  his  cross  explains  the  depth  of  his  grief  in  the 
prospect  of  it ;  the  unprecedented  severity  of  his  pains  gives 
a  reason  for  the  unprecedented  magnificence  of  his  reward. 
He  rose  so  high  because  he  had  sunk  so  low.     The  super- 

^  1  Pet.  i.  19.  !2  Isa.  liii.  5,  6. 


352  THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER. 

structure  was  lofty  because  the  foundation  was  deep.  His 
death  is  the  central  fact  occurring  between  the  grief  with 
which  it  was  foreseen  and  the  glory  with  which  it  was  fol- 
lowed ;  between  the  lengthened  preparation  for  it  at  the 
Jewish  altars  and  the  continued  celebration  of  it  in  the  New 
Jerusalem.  When  he  instituted  the  memorial  of  himself  he 
did  not  prescribe  the  image  of  his  sceptre  or  of  his  crown, 
but  he  prescribed  the  broken  bread  and  the  wine  poured 
forth.  The  sceptre  was  his  recompense  for  his  contest  with 
principalities  and  powers ;  the  crown  was  his  reward  for 
having  overcome  the  sharpness  of  death.  The  more  fully 
we  recognize  the  import  of  his  sorrow  in  Gethsemane,  so 
much  the  more  clearly  shall  we  see  the  wealth  of  his  an- 
nouncement :  "  I  am  the  first  and  the  last  and  the  living 
one ;  and  I  was  dead,  and  behold  I  am  alive  for  evermore ; 
and  I  have  the  keys  of  death  and  of  Hades." 


NOTE  TO  PAGE  349. 

"  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?"  These  words, 
recorded  in  Matt,  xxvii.  46  ;  Mark  xv.  34,  have  been  commonly 
interpreted  as  indicating  the  extreme  of  our  Redeemer's  pains,  and 
as  illustrating  the  nature  of  his  atonement.  Their  importance, 
however,  has  been  sometimes  denied  or  depreciated.  Their  mean- 
ing and  value  may  be  determined  by  the  following,  among  other 
considerations  : 

1.  The  words  of  our  Lord  in  regard  to  his  desertion  should  be 
interpreted  in  a  manner  harmonizing  with  his  general  character. 
This  was  a  peculiar  character,  and  leads  us  to  associate  a  peculiar 
significance  with  his  words.  To  some  of  his  utterances,  considered 
merely  by  themselves,  we  may  either  ascribe  a  meaning  common  and 
comparatively  ignoble  or,  on  the  other  hand,  a  meaning  uncommon 
and  comparatively  exalted.  If  an  ordinary  man  had  uttered  the  same 
words  we  should  feel  no  impulse  to  explain  them  as  conveying  more 
than  an  ordinary  idea.  But  the  excellence  of  Christ  is  so  unprece- 
dented and  so  impressive  that  we  are  prompted  to  exj-lain  his  words 
as  conveying  an  idea  harmonious  with  that  excellence.     If  an  ordi- 


THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  353 

dinary  nan  had  said  to  Martha,  "  One  thing  is  needful,"  ^  we  might 
have  interpreted  him  as  meaning  that  one  article  of  food  is  sufficient ; 
but  we  cannot  so  interpret  the  great  Teacher.  If  a  common  person 
had  said,  '  God  is  greater  than  I,'  we  might  have  criticised  him  as 
saying  what  indeed  sounds  lowly  to  the  ear,  but  indicates  a  trifling 
or  a  vain  spirit.  How  could  a  sensible  man  think  of  affirming  that 
he  is  inferior  to  the  Infinite  One  ?  When  our  Saviour  declares 
'  God  is  greater  than  I,'  ^  we  ascribe  to  him  no  idea  indicative  of 
either  a  trifling  or  a  vain  mind.  We  feel  an  impulse  to  interpret 
his  utterance  as  distinguishing  his  own  earthly  condition  from  the 
heavenly  condition  of  his  Father;  as  intimating  that  he  did  not 
eagerly  retain  the  heavenly  state  which  he  had  enjoyed  before  the 
world  was,  but  he  freely  gave  it  up  and  came  down  into  the  estate 
of  men.^  So  if  an  ordinary  Christian  should  exclaim  on  his  death- 
bed, "  My  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?  "  we  might  interpret 
his  complaint  as  signifying  that  his  body  was  too  weak  to  allow  the 
full  action  of  his  mind ;  that  he  could  obtain  no  clear  view  of  God 
because  his  intellectual  eye  became  dim  when  the  physical  eye 
became  glazed ;  the  state  of  the  brain  repressed  the  energies  of  the 
soul.  But  when  Christ  uttered  these  words  we  ascribe  to  them 
a  significance  reaching  down  to  the  depths  of  his  character.  We 
remember  his  sayings  :  "  I  knew  that  thou  hearest  me  always  "  ;  * 
" It  is  my  Father  that  glorifieth  me " ; *  "I  and  the  Father  are 
one."*  When,  therefore,  on  a  sudden,  he  seems  to  lose  confidence 
in  the  promise,  "  I  will  in  no  wise  fail  thee,  neither  will  I  in  any 
wise  forsake  thee";^  when  he  comes  to  a  sudden  turn  of  his  speech, 
and  his  voice  sounds  like  a  wail  rather  than  a  note  of  trust,  and  he 
inquires  into  the  reason  for  his  being  deserted,  we  have  an  impulse 
to  ascribe  the  unprecedented  change  to  an  unprecedented  cause,  to 
believe  in  his  mysterious  affliction  rather  than  in  his  moral  weakness 
or  mental  confusion.  If  he  were  suffering  an  ordinary  calamity  he 
would  not  have  uttered  such  a  complaint  without  any  apologetic 
words,  without  any  attempt  to  justify  his  Maker  for  thus  forsaking 
him  in  the  midst  of  his  calamity. 

2.  The  words  of  our  Lord  in  regard  to  his  desertion  should  be 
interpreted   in  a  manner  harmonizing  with  the  tone  of  sentiment 

1  Luke  X.  42.  '^  John  xiv.  28.  »  Phil.  ii.  5-8.  ■•  John  xi.  42 

6  John  viii.  54.         ^  John  x.  3». 

7  Heb.  xiii.  5.  See  also  Deut.  xxxi.  6,  8 ;  Josh.  i.  5  ;  1  Chron.  xxviii.  20 


354  THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER. 

which  characterized  his  last  hours.  "We  are  told  by  some  critics  that 
in  these  words  he  was  directing  his  mind  and  the  minds  of  others  to 
the  twenty-second  Psalm,  that  he  cited  the  first  verse  of  it  as  an 
introduction  to  the  triumphant  strains  with  which  the  Psalm  con- 
cludes. This  criticism  is  not  coincident  with  what  seems  to  have 
been  his  train  of  thought  during  his  hours  of  suffering  on  the  cross. 
These  do  not  seem  to  be  hours  in  which  he  "  rejoiced  in  spirit,"  but 
the  hours  in  which  he  was  drinking  the  cup  from  which  he  prayed 
to  be  delivered.  They  do  not  seem  to  be  hours  for  his  referring 
like  a  commentator  to  verses  which  he  did  not  repeat.  The  "  loud 
voice  "  of  his  outcry  does  not  appear  to  be  a  sign  that  he  was  cheered 
by  quotations  on  which  he  kept  silent,  but  rather  that  he  was 
saddened  by  the  quotation  which  he  repeated  in  a  piercing  tone.  If 
his  mind  had  been  occupied  with  the  triumphal  sentiments  of  the 
tw.enty-second  Psalm,  why  did  he  not  repeat  them  "  with  a  loud 
voice  "  ?  Why  did  he  not  say,  "  I  will  declare  thy  name  unto  my 
brethren  :  in  the  midst  of  the  congregation  will  I  praise  thee.  For 
he  hath  not  despised  nor  abhorred  the  affliction  of  the  afflicted, 
neither  hath  he  hid  his  face  from  him ;  but  when  he  cried  unto  him, 
he  heard"?  ^  If  the  Redeemer  had  quoted  these  and  similar  strains, 
the  impression  left  by  the  narrative  of  his  last  hours  would  have 
been  different  from  that  which  has  been  made  upon  the  church  in 
all  time.  The  tone  in  which  he  uttered  his  prayer  did  not  indicate 
to  the  Romans  and  Jews  who  were  near  him  that  he  was  indulging 
in  emotions  of  victory.  The  entire  narrative  of  the  Evangelists  has 
impressed  on  the  majority  of  its  readers  a  conviction  that  his  prayer 
was  an  expression  of  unmingled  anguish. 

3,  The  words  of  our  Lord  in  regard  to  his  desertion  should  be 
interpreted  in  a  manner  harmonizing  with  the  general  style  of  the 
biblical  passages  which  refer  to  his  atonement.  These  passages 
imply  that  his  death  was  the  great  event  of  his  earthly  existence, 
and  his  triumph  was  not  intermingled  with  it,  but  was  consequent 
upon  it.  He  was  first  crowned  with  thorns,  and  afterward  crowned 
with  glory ;  was  first  overladen  with  sadness,  and  afterward  thrilled 
with  joy.  His  triumph  was  no  more  intermingled  with  the  bruises 
which  his  Father  inflicted  upon  him  than  his  resurrection  was  inter- 
mingled with  his  burial.  It  is  as  natural  to  think  of  the  lamb 
triumphing  when  laid  on  the  sacrificial  altar  as  of  Christ  triumphing 

1  Ps.  xxii.  22,  24  sq. 


THE  SORROW  OF  THE  REDEEMER.  355 

when  he  became  the  sacrificial  victim  on  Golgotha.  His  coronation 
ode,  in  the  second  Psalm,  was  indited  on  the  ground  of  his  antece- 
dent death.^     '  He  was  despised  and  rejected  of  men  ; it  pleased 

the  Lord  to  bruise  him,'  etc.  — "  therefore  will  I  divide  him  a 
portion  with  the  great,  and  he  shall  divide  the  spoil  with  the  strong; 
because  he  hath  poured  out  his  soul  unto  death."  ^  "  He  endured 
the  cross,  despising  the  shame,"  —  "  for  the  joy  that  was  set  before 
him."  ^  "  Concerning  which  salvation  the  prophets  sought  —  search- 
ing what  time  or  what  manner  of  time  the  Spirit  of  Christ  which 
was  in  them  did  point  unto,  when  it  testified  beforehand  the  suffer- 
ings of  Christ  and  the  glories  that  should  follow  them."  *  Passages 
like  these  indicate  the  general  fact  that  the  sufferings  of  Christ  were 
momentous  in  their  nature,  and  were  therefore  followed  by  his 
triumph.  In  unison  with  this  general  fact,  his  avowal  of  desertion 
may  be  interpreted  as  denoting  his  pain,  and  not  the  triumph  which 
was  to  follow  the  pain. 

The  idea  of  some,  that  in  uttering  the  first  verse  of  the  twenty- 
second  Psalm  our  Lord  had  reference  to  the  entire  Psalm,  and 
especially  to  its  joyous  parts,  is  inconsistent  with  the  idea  of  others 
that  his  cry  of  desertion  was  prompted  by  his  mental  weakness 
resulting  from  his  bodily  fatigue  and  distress.  Of  course,  we  do  not 
deny  that  the  position  of  the  body  on  the  cross  had  an  injurious  in- 
fluence on  the  brain  of  the  sufferer  who  had  been  harassed  and 
wearied  through  the  preceding  night.  We  must  not  forget,  how- 
ever, the  superiority  of  the  sufferer's  mind,  nor  the  strength  of  his 
faith,  as  they  were  fitted  to  overcome  the  tortures  of  his  body. 
Besides,  his  physical  weakness  did  not  prevent  his  uttering  his 
lamentation  "  with  a  loud  voice,"*  and  afterwards  uttering  another 
sentence  •'  with  a  loud  voice."  *  Of  his  seven  words  on  the  cross, 
his  outcry  of  desertion  was  the  intermediate  one  —  the  fourth.  The 
three  sentences  which  followed  it  are  signs  that  amid  all  his  weak- 
ness and  weariness  of  body  he  still  retained  the  power  and  elevation 
of  mind  which  had  marked  his  antecedent  history. 

1  Eom.  i.  4  ;  Acts  xiii.  33.  2  jga.  Hii.  o_i2  ;  Phil.  ii.  9-11. 

8  Heb.  xii.  2.        ♦  1  Pet.  i.  10, 11.      ^  ^igtt.  xxvii.  46.  See  also  Mark  xv.  34. 
6  Luke  xxiii.  46.     See  also  Matt,  xxvii.  50  ;  Mark  xv.  37. 


XIV. 

THE  RIGHTEOUS  MAN'S  SATISFACTION  ¥ITH 
THE  CHARACTER  OE  GOD. 


PSALM    XVII.  16. 


AS  POK  ME,  1  WILL  BEHOLD  THY  PACE  IN  EIGHTEOUSITESS  ;   I  BHALL  BE  BATISFIED^ 
WHEN  I  AWAKE,  WITH  THY  LIKENESS. 

To  be  satisfied  !  To  be  saved  from  all  physical  craving ; 
to  have  every  intellectual  want  precisely  met ;  to  be  sur- 
rounded with  all  objects  which  can  minister  to  all  right 
desires  of  the  soul ;  to  feel  no  emotions  save  those  which  are 
filled  full  with  joy ;  to  indulge  no  affections  save  those  which 
have  enough  and  give  enough  of  bliss ;  to  possess  all  which 
one  chooses  to  possess,  and  nothing  besides  ;  to  be  freed 
from  everything  which  one  chooses  to  miss,  and  to  want 
nothing  else ;  to  feel  no  necessity,  and  no  wish  for  more  or 
fewer  companions  and  friends,  for  larger  pr  smaller  learning 
or  wealth,  for  better  or  even  other  employments  or  reliefs, 
for  higher  or  fuller  joys  or  hopes  —  all  this  is  to  be  satisfied  I 

If  the  thing  be  so,  then  I  am  not  satisfied.  Every  man  is 
conscious  of  desires  that  find  here  no  befitting  object.  He 
is  disquieted  with  evil  longings,  which  are,  and  must  be,  as 
they  ought  to  be,  unfulfilled.  Nothing  here  comes  up  to  the 
full  aspirations  of  the  soul.  Even  when  we  arrive  at  the 
true  and  the  highest  good,  we  are  drawn  downward  and 
backward  by  our  erring  and  degrading  habits.  The  imagi- 
nary ills,  the  groundless  fears,  the  selfish  disappointments, 


THE  SATISFACTION  OP  THE  RIGHTEOUS  MAN.  357 

the  exorbitant  claims,  the  wilful  schemes,  of  man  have  made 
his  heart  like  the  sea,  ever  restless,  its  waves  rising,  and 
reaching  nothing,  and  then  falling  down,  finding  no  sure 
stay.  From  one  to  another,  and  then  another,  and  still  one 
more  vanity,  our  passions  fly,  tossed  ever  to  and  fro. 

I  am  not  satisfied :  that  is  very  sure  ;  and  I  never  was 
satisfied.  Almost  every  man  may  say,  '  I  once  struggled  to 
gain  a  prize,  and  it  receded  from  me  just  as  I  had  come  near 
it.  I  had  found  my  happiness  in  a  friend,  and  as  a  dream 
he  vanished  out  of  my  sight.'  Wlien  we  form  a  lifelike 
picture  of  man,  we  paint  him  an  eager  aspirant,  stretching 
forth  his  hand  to  pluck  the  fruit 'while  the  bough  shrinks 
away  from  his  grasp. 

If  any  friend  of  the  world  has  been  successful  in  his  search 
for  bliss,  it  was  that  accomplished  nobleman  who  during  the 
last  eighteen  years  of  his  life  expressed  in  scattered  para- 
graphs the  vanity  of  his  search.^  He  writes  :  "  I  have  run 
the  silly  rounds  both  of  pleasure  and  business,  and  have  done 
with  them  all."^  — "  Even  when  I  reflect  back  upon  what  I 
have  seen,  what  I  have  heard,  and  what  I  have  done  myself, 
I  can  hardly  persuade  myself  that  all  that  frivolous  hurry 
and  bustle  and  pleasures  of  the  world  had  any  reality ;  but 
they  seem  to  have  been  the  dreams  of  restless  nights."  ^  — 
" I  have  enjoyed  all "  the  pleasures  of  the  world,  "and  conse- 
quently know  their  futility,  and  do  not  regret  their  loss.  I 
appraise  them  at  their  real  value,  which  in  truth  is  very  low ; 
whereas  those  who  have  not  experienced,  always  over-rate, 

1  These  paragraphs  are  found  in  the  fourth  volume  of  "  The  Miscellaneous 
Works  of  the  late  Philip  Dormer  Stanhope,  Earl  of  Chesterfield,"  compiled  by 
M.  Maty,  M.D.  The  sentences  of  Lord  Chesterfield  have  been  often  published 
as  if  they  belonged  to  a  single  paragraph  and  were  written  at  one  and  the  same 
time.  The  expressiveness  of  them  is  augmented  by  the  fact  that  they  were 
•written  at  different  periods  of  his  life,  and  represent  his  habitual  disappointment 
and  regret. 

'■^  Miscellaneous  "Works,  etc..  Vol.  iv.  p.  311.  Lord  Chesterfield's  Letter  to 
Bishop  Clienevix  in  1766. 

'•^  Ibid.,  pp.  283,  284.     To  the  same,  in  1759. 


358  THE   SATISFACTION   OF   THE  RIGHTEOUS  MAN. 

tliem.  They  only  see  their  gay  outside,  and  are  dazzled  with 
their  glare  ;  but  1  have  been  behind  the  scenes."  ^  —  "I  have 
seen  all  the  coarse  pulleys  and  dirty  ropes  which  exhibit  and 
move  all  the  gaudy  machines  ;  and  I  have  seen  and  smelt  the 
tallow  candles  which  illuminate  the  whole  decoration,  to  the 
astonishment  and  admiration  of  the  ignorant  audience."  ^  — 
"  I  look  upon  all  that  has  passed  as  one  of  those  romantic 
dreams  that  opium  commonly  occasions,  and  I  do  by  no 
means  desire  to  repeat  the  nauseous  dose,  for  the  sake  of 
the  fugitive  dream." ^  —  "I  have  exhausted  all  the  physical 
ills  of  Pandora's  box,  without  finding  hope  at  the  bottom 
of  it."  4 

Nor  is  it  merely  the  polite  courtier  who  proclaims  the 
inanity  of  mere  secular  pursuits.  An  enthusiastic  scholar? 
in  view,  not  of  his  amusements,  but  even  his  graver  studies, 
has  written  :  "  I  have  looked  over  Hutten,  Vivos,  Erasmus, 
Scaliger,  Salmasius,  Casaubon,  and  many  other  critical  gram- 
marians, and  all  Gruterus's  critical  volumes.  I  have  read 
almost  all  the  physics  and  metaphysics  I  could  hear  of.  I 
liave  wasted  much  of  my  time  among  whole  loads  of  his- 
torians, chronologers,  and  antiquaries ;  I  despise  none  of 
their  learning.  All  truth  is  useful ;  mathematics,  which  I 
have  least  of,  I  find  a  pretty  manlike  sport.  But  if  I  had 
no  other  kind  of  knowledge  than  these,  what  were  my  under- 
standing worth  ?  what  a  dreaming  dotard  should  I  be  ! 

I  have  higher  thoughts  of  the  schoolmen  than  Erasmus  and 
our  other  grammarians  had  :  I  much  value  the  method  and 
sobriety  of  Aquinas,  the  subtilty  of  Scotus  and  Occam,  the 
plainness  of  Durandus,  the  solidity  of  Ariminensis,  the  pro- 
fundity of  Bradwardine,  the  excellent  acuteness  of  many  of 
their  followers — of  Aureolus,  Capreolus,  Bannes,  Alvarez, 
Zumel,  etc. ;  of  Mayro,  Lychetus,  Trombeta,  Faber,  Meurisse, 

^  Miscellaneous  "Works,  etc.,  Vol.  iv.  pp.  255,  256.  Lord  Chesterfield's  Letter 
to  Bishop  Chcnevix  in  1766. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  40.     To  Mr.  Dayrolles,  in  1748. 
8  Ibid.,  p.  256.     To  Bishop  Chenevix,  in  1755. 
*  Ibid.,  p.  330.     To  the  same,  in  1771. 


THE  SATISFACTION   OF   THE   RIGHTEOUS   MAN.  359 

E-ada,  etc. ;  of  Ruiz,  Pennatus,  Suarez,  Vasquez,  etc. ;  of 
Hurtado,  of  Albertinus,  of  Liid.  a  Dola,  and  many  otliers. 
But  how  loath  should  I  be  to  take  such  sauce  for  my  food 
and  such  recreations  for  my  business !  The  jingling  of  too 
much  and  too  false  philosophy  among  them  oft  drowns  the 
noise  of  Aaron's  bells."  ^ 

It  is,  and  has  been,  the  design  of  Providence  to  teach  men 
by  example  that  a  finite  world  is  incompetent  to  fill  out  the 
demands  of  an  immortal  mind ;  and  therefore  it  was  as  a 
prophecy  of  what  is  to  be  in  all  time,  and  as  a  history  of 
what  has  been  ever  since  the  Fall,  that  the  disappointed 
monarch  wrote  the  epitaph  for  every  successful  aspirant  for 
wealth  or  power.  "  I  made  me  great  works ;  I  builded  me 
houses ;  I  made  me  gardens  and  orchards ;  I  gathered  me 
also  silver  and  gold ;  so  I  was  great,  and  increased  more  than 
all  that  were  before  me  in  Jerusalem.  And  whatsoever  mine 
eyes  desired,  I  kept  not  from  them.  Then  I  looked  on  all  the 
works  that  my  hands  had  wrought,  and,  behold,  all  was 
vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit."  ^ 

If,  therefore,  the  titled  statesman  and  the  erudite  scholar 
and  the  opulent  king  have  been  so  discontented  with  all  their 
gains,  something  more  is  true  than  that  I  am  not  satisfied, 
and  never  was  satisfied.  This  is  true  :  I  can  never  expect 
to  be  satisfied  on  this  earth.  Here  the  stupor  of  sleep  is 
upon  me.  A  little  more  sleep,  a  little  more  slumber,  a  little 
more  folding  of  the  hands  to  sleep,  is  the  language  of  dark- 
minded  men.     The  greatest  truths  are  wrapped  up  in  the 

1  The  Practical  "Works  of  the  Late  Reverend  and  Pious  Mr.  Richard  Baxter. 
London,  1707.    Vol.  iv.  back  of  p.  499. 

^  Eccl.  ii.  4-11.  Lord  Chesterfield  supposing  that  the  above  cited  words  were 
spoken  by  Solomon,  says  :  "I  now  read  Solomon  with  a  sort  of  sympathetic 
feeling.  I  have  been  as  wicked  and  as  vain,  though  not  so  wise  as  he  :  but  am 
now  at  last  wise  enough  to  feel  and  attest  the  truth  of  his  reflection,  that  all  is 
vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit.  Tliis  truth  is  never  sufficiently  discovered  or 
felt  by  mere  speculation  ;  experience  in  this  case  is  necessary  for  conviction, 
though  perhaps  at  the  expense  of  some  morality."  —  Miscellaneous  Works,  Vol. 
iv.  p.  287. 


360  THE   SATISFACTION   OF  THE   RIGHTEOUS   MAN. 

thickest  of  the  night.  A  dream,  a  fleeting  sliow  is  all  this 
world.  Having  eyes,  we  see  not  the  forms  ;  having  ears,  we 
hear  not  the  voices  from  heaven  imdting  us  ever  upward, 
while  we  are  ever  refusing  to  move  from  our  low  estate. 
And  in  this  dreamy  life  we  put  darkness  for  light,  the 
visionary  for  the  real,  the  rough  for  the  smooth,  and  we 
know  not  at  what  we  stumble. 

But  not  always  shall  I  sleep.  I  shall  awake.  I  shall 
behold  the  face  of  God  in  righteousness.  In  this  world  there 
are  periods  when  righteous  men  rise  into  new  views  of  their 
Maker  and  new  degrees  of  joy  in  him.  Through  long  hours 
of  darkness  they  are  disconsolate ;  but  the  night  passes 
away  ;  the  sun  as  a  bridegroom  comes  out  of  his  chamber, 
and  rejoices  as  a  strong  man  to  run  a  race.  Through  long 
hours  of  weariness  and  mental  confusion  the  friends  of  God 
may  take  a  kind  of  rest  in  him  ;  Ijut  ere  long  they  will  come 
to  hours  of  vigor  and  mental  concentration,  when  their  rest 
will  give  way  to  triumph  in  him. 

In  the  future  world  there  are  two  periods  when  the 
righteous  will  have  new  reasons  for  exulting  in  their  Maker.'-* 
The  Christian  looks  forward  with  the  brightest  hope  to  one 
or  the  other  of  these  two  periods.  So  soon  as  his  soul  is 
released  from  the  body,  it  will  rise  as  on  the  wings  of  an 
eagle  to  new  knowledge  and  new  bliss.  In  some  aspects 
death  is  the  rousing  of  the  spirit  to  the  realities  of  life. 
Then  is  the  eye  of  the  intellect  opened.  Then,  at  death,  is 
the  mental  ear  made  sensitive  to  every  word  of  God  as  no 
uncertain  sound.  Then,  at  death,  we  pass  into  intimate 
contact  with  him  who  keepeth  all  created  minds  vigilant  in 
their  measure  like  himself.  When  the  Christian  repeats  the 
words  of  our  text  he  often  alludes  to  this  breaking  up  of  his 
spiritual  slumber,  and  says  that  the  present  world  is  a  dream, 
and  the  bright  world  to  which  he  goes  is  one  of  wakeful  joy. 
But  he  often  alludes  to  a  richer  scene  than  this.     In  some 

1  See  Note  A,  at  the  end  of  the  sermon,  p.  374. 


THE   SATISFACTION   OF   THE   RIGHTEOUS   MAN.  361 

aspects  he  looks  at  the  end  of  life  as  the  end  of  trouble,  and 
therefore  looks  at  death  as  a  state  of  rest,  of  sleep  in  Jesus. 
He  looks  at  the  grave  as  the  bed  on  which  the  body  takes  its 
long  repose ;  but  he  looks  forward  to  the  awakening  of  the 
body  from  this  peaceful  slumber.  The  trumpet  shall  sound, 
and  all  they  who  are  fallen  asleep  in  Christ  shall  come  forth 
incorruptible.  "What  was  sown  in  weakness  and  dishonor 
shall  be  raised  in  power  and  glory.  Then  "  as  we  have  borne 
the  image  of  the  earthy,  we  shall  also  bear  the  image  of  the 
heavenly." 

"  And  as  for  me,"  if  I  have  cherished  the  faith  of  a 
righteous  man,  then  when  I  awake  I  shall  behold  thy  face  in 
righteousness ;  and  at  my  dying  hour  and  at  the  last  day  I 
shall  not  open  my  eyes  in  disquiet,  but  I  shall  be  satisfied 
with  thy  likeness.  A  devout  heart  is  a  prophecy  of  ultimate 
enjoyment.  As  the  wings  of  a  bird  prove  its  destination  to 
fly  in  the  air ;  as  the  instincts  of  a  fish  attest  the  design  of  its 
Maker  that  it  swim  in  the  sea,  so  do  a  man's  devout  aspira- 
tions for  a  purer  than  earthly  joy  indicate  that  he  was  made 
for  heaven,  and  will  reach  his  full  blessedness  when  he  has 
roused  himself  from  his  deceptive  sleep  and  become  united 
with  the  Spirit  who  never  slumbereth.  We  are  sure  of  a 
holy  peace,  if  we  have  a  holy  appetence  for  it.  Let  us  cherish 
a  pure  love  toward  the  Infinite  Mind,  and  that  love  will 
attain  its  satisfaction  in  an  intimate  communion  with  that 
mind.  Blessed  are  they  that  hunger,  for  their  very  desire  of 
food  is  a  pledge  that  they  will  enjoy  the  feast. 

In  the  first  place,  the  righteous  man  will  be  satisfied  with 
the  divine  intellect.  It  is  in  compliance  with  the  imperfect 
language  of  men  that  we  speak  of  their  Maker's  intellect. 
This  is  his  power  to  perceive  all  truth,  —  all  facts  and  all 
possibilities.  Heaven  is  the  abode  of  minds  bearing  his 
intellectual  image ;  of  men  risen,  and  still  rising,  far  above 
the  standard  which  they  attained  on  earth;  of  men  who 
received  while  here  the  admiration  of  the  wise  —  how  much 


862  THE  SATISFACTION   OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS  MAN. 

more  worthy  to  receive  it  there.  Our  faith  is  that  astrono- 
mers greater  than  Newton  will  be  born  into  the  world, 
logicians  moi-e  acute  than  Chillingworth,  metaphysicians 
brighter  than  Thomas  Aquinas,  doctors  of  the  civil  law  more 
learned  than  Selden  and  Grotius ;  and  that  such  men,  higher 
than  those  who  have  yet  enlightened  the  world,  '  will  like 
the  kings  bring  their  glory  and  honor  into  heaven.'  But  he 
who  holds  the  stars  in  their  courses,  and  looks  down  upon 
the  whole  panorama  of  our  astronomy  as  but  a  map  of  one 
obscure  section  of  his  empire,-^ he  who  gave  the  original 
principles  to  the  mind,  and  has  an  intuition  of  truth  compared 
with  which  all  our  logical  processes  are  but  the  first  efforts 
of  a  child  to  spell  out  the  words  as  hard  to  him  as  they  are 
familiar  to  his  parents,  —  he  who  first  revealed  to  man  the 
profound  maxims  of  jurisprudence,  and  formed  our  con- 
sciences so  that  we  must  revere  the  law  whose  voice  is  "  the 
harmony  of  the  world,"  and  whose  "  seat  is  the  bosom  of 
God,"  —  he  who  has  constructed  his  material  and  spiritual 
universe  in  exact  correspondence  with  those  rules  which  the 
mathematician  and  the  moralist  glory  in  discovering,  —  he 
whose  infinite  knowledge  is  as  orderly  and  exact  as  if  the 
laws  of  geometry  were  designed  to  be  a  mere  crude  symbol 
of  it,  —  he  is  to  become  the  near  friend  of  devout  men, 
so  near  that  they  shall  '  behold  his  face.'  ^  They  will  be 
gratified  with  the  society  of  the  great  captains,  the  brave 
admirals,  the  mathematicians,  the  historians,  and  the  sacred 
philosophers  whom  they  will  meet  in  that  world  of  large 
minds ;  but  they  will  be  satisfied  with  the  intellect  devising 
all  these  objects,  the  imperfect  knowledge  of  which  constitutes 
human  science;  that  intellect  contriving  all  these  minds 
which  become  renowned  as  the  mere  observers  of  his  works ; 
that  august,  capacious,  unmeasurable,  reverend  mind,  who 
radiates  knowledge  upon  his  friends  by  allowing  them  to 
see  his  face  in  righteousness,  and  converse  with  him  not  "  in 
dark  speeches,"  but  as  a  man  converseth  with  his  friend. 

1  Probably  these  words  have  reference  to  Num.  xii.  8,  a  verse  which  derivfta 
its  emphasis  from  its  contrast  with  Exod.  xxxiii.  20. 


THE  SATISFACTION   OF   THE   RIGHTEOUS   MAN.  363 

111  the  second  place,  the  righteous  maii  will  be  satisfied 
with  the  divine  sensibilities.  Here,  again,  we  use  a  word 
which  reflects  honor  upon  the  creature,  but  seems  almost 
irreverent  when  applied  to  the  Creator.  The  righteous  man 
will  be  satisfied  with  God  as  the  Spirit  all  whose  involuntary 
emotions  are  exactly  appropriate  to  their  objects.  With  his 
infinite  intellect  he  unites  an  immeasurable  love  for  all  that 
is  beautiful,  —  and  under  the  beautiful  we  comprehend  all 
that  is  fair  and  majestic,  fine  and  noble,  grand  and  sublime, 
in  the  sphere  of  matter  and  of  spirit.  Beauty  includes  all 
the  attributes  which  delight  the  taste,  and  when  it  exists  in 
material  objects  it  is  a  symbol  of  beauty  in  immaterial 
objects.  That  which  pleases  us  in  the  flower-garden  is  an 
emblem  of  that  which  pleases  us  in  the  natural  virtues.  The 
love  for  the  graceful  or  sublime  in  the  visible  world  has  a 
normal  kinship  with  a  love  for  the  graceful  or  sublime  in  the 
invisible. 

"We  anticipate  such  a  progress  in  the  schools  of  art  that 
painters  will  arise  more  spiritual  than  Fra  Angelico,  archi- 
tects nobler. than  Michael  Angelo,  musicians  more  select 
than  Mozart,  Haydn,  or  Handel,  poets  more  ethereal  than 
Milton  or  Dante.  The  righteous  man  beholding  without  a 
veil  the  divine  character  will  at  some  period  of  his  exis- 
tence behold  multitudes  of  more  winning  spirits  than  ever 
yet  adorned  the  earth.  He  will  be  gratified  with  those 
choice  minds  of  whom  as  yet  the  world  has  not  been  worthy ; 
those  translated  and  transfigured  artists  who  will  reveal 
new  beauties  of  color  to  his  eye,  or  untwine  some  new 
mystic  chord  of  harmony,  or  realize  unheard-of  ideals  in 
song.^  But  he  is  to  be  satisfied  when  he  beholds  the  face 
of  him  from  whose  infinite  love  of  beauty  our  painters  and 
sculptors  have  received  their  infinitesimal  love  ;  wlio  has 
spread  the  vermilion  and  the  violet  and  the  orange  over  the 

1  "  If  there  be  not  in  heaven  that  music  which  is  heard  with  Uie  outward  ear, 
there  is,  at  least,  nothing  known  on  earth  which  can  so  fitly  as  music  symbolize 
the  mode  in  which  the  saints  and  angels  actually  do  express  their  feelings."-— 
Dr.  Thomas  Hill  in  Bibliotheca  Sacra,  Vol.  xxxvii.  p.  250. 


364  THE   SATISFACTION   OF   THE   RIGHTEOUS  MAN. 

earth  in  order  that  his  children  may  arrange  them  into  pic- 
tures which,  after  all,  are  but  copies  of  his  own  originals. 
The  human  artist  wears  out  his  life  in  chiselling  flowers  on 
the  marble.  He  can  chisel  but  few  of  them.  They  have  no 
pliancy,  no  fragrance,  no  varying  tints,  no  life.  They  are 
partial  imitations  of  the  flowers  which  are  renewed  every 
year  or  month  or  week  upon  the  ground,  and  load  the  air 
with  sweet  odors,  and  delight  the  eye  with  their  ever  chang- 
ing tints.  We  do  not  cease  to  praise  the  mind  of  the  artist 
for  his  imitations.  His  taste  and  skill  deserve  to  be  honored. 
There  is  no  well  turned  cornice,  no  curious  frieze,  no  majestic 
architrave,  no  magnificent  column  nor  dome,  which  does 
not  attest  the  sense  of  beauty  or  of  sublimity  belonging  to 
some  gifted  one  of  the  sons  of  man.  But  he  who  endued 
men  with  that  exquisite  taste,  he  who  made  the  eye  for 
all  these  lovely  scenes,  shall  not  he  perceive  what  he  has 
enabled  his  children  to  discern  ?  He  who  has  made  the  ear, 
shall  not  he  know  as  much  as  that  ear  detects  ?  And  what 
are  all  the  entablatures  and  towers  and  domes  of  human 
artifice  compared  with  this  vast  temple  of  the  world  which 
has  the  stars  for  the  gilding  of  its  roof,  and  mines  of  gold 
for  the  pillars  that  sustain  its  floor,  and  the  rose  and  the  lily 
and  the  jessamine  ever  renewing  themselves  in  the  carpet 
that  blooms  for  us  to  tread  upon  while  we  are  walking 
through  the  temple,  resonant  as  its  wide  spaces  are  with 
the  hymns  of  the  forests,  and  the  eternal  anthem  of  the 
waves  of  the  sea  ?  And  this  God  is  our  God  ;  and  his  per- 
ception of  beauty  is  so  clear,  his  love  of  sublimity  is  so  full, 
that  we  degrade  it  if  we  call  it  by  the  name  of  taste,  and 
allude  to  the  taste  of  God  ;  and  his  invention  of  delicate 
forms,  of  melodious  tones,  and  of  graceful  images  is  so  rich 
that  we  almost  profane  it  if  we  speak  of  it  as  his  artistic 
genius,  and  allude  to  the  genius  of  God  ;  for  all  the  words 
which  arc  fit  to  indicate  the  worthiness  of  man  are  only  mean 
and  contemptible,  if  not  sacrilegious,  when  used  to  express 
the  prolific  energy  of  that  Spirit  from  which  all  angelic  and 


THE   SATISFACTION   OF   THE   RIGHTEOUS  MAN.  365 

manly  grace  or  grandeur  has  radiated.  I  have  heard  of  men 
ashamed  of  being  thought  to  be  in  communion  with  their 
Maker ;  but  "  as  for  me,"  may  every  true  disciple  exclaim, 
"  I  am  not  ashamed  "  ;  as  for  me,  I  shall  be  satisfied  with  a 
near  view  of  the  Monarch,  who  has  a  sense  of  honor  causing 
him  to  be  the  God  of  the  widow  and  the  fatherless  ;  who  has 
a  nobleness  of  aifection  inclining  him  to  delight  in  forgiving 
the  basest  crime  ;  who  has  such  a  regard  for  moral  rectitude 
that  he  has  devised  all  the  hues  of  the  botanic  world,  and  all 
the  forms  of  the  mineral  world,  and  all  the  colossal  propor- 
tions of  the  mountains,  and  the  stars,  for  the  purpose  of  let- 
ting the  eye  see  emblems  of  all  the  virtues,  and  letting  the 
soul  adorn  itself  with  symbols  of  the  beauty  of  holiness. 

The  last  remark  leads  us  to  say,  in  the  third  place,  that 
righteous  men  will  be  satisfied  with  the  holiness  of  God. 
He  glorifies  his  intellect  and  sensibility  with  perfect  benevo- 
lence. Human  language  trembles  when  it  admits  such  words 
as  "  the  intellectual  powers "  of  Jehovah,  his  "  aesthetic 
sensibilities  "  ;  but  it  stands  firm  when  it  recognizes  his  holy 
character.  We  admire  his  power,  not  so  much  because  it 
is  power  as  because  it  is  wielded  in  behalf  of  virtue.  We 
revere  him  as  eternal,  but  not  so  much  on  account  of  his 
unceasing  duration  as  on  account  of  his  unceasing  love  for 
what  is  right.  As  a  mere  intellectual  object  we  prize  more 
than  aught  besides  the  goodness  of  Jehovah.  As  a  mere 
object  of  taste  we  find  our  noblest  gratification  in  his  perfect 
rectitude ;  for  there  is  no  picture  nor  statue,  no  tesselated 
pavement  nor  fluted  pillar,  no  oratorio  nor  poem,  which  has 
an  equal  power  with  moral  rectitude  to  gratify  the  love  of 
beauty.  For  moral  rectitude  is  benevolence  ;  not  the  mere 
sentimental  benevolence  which  may  delight  in  happiness  more 
than  in  holiness,  but  the  rational,  comprehensive  benevolence 
which  is  a  preference  for  the  richest  good  of  the  sentient 
universe.  Moral  rectitude  is  moral  beauty ;  and  as  natural 
beauty  comprehends  all  qualities  fitted  to  please  the  taste, 


366  THE   SATISFACTION   OF   THE   RIGHTEOUS   MAN. 

SO  moral  beauty  comprehends  all  qualities  fitted  to  please  the 
conscience.  It  comprehends  the  majesty  of  justice  as  well 
as  the  fineness  of  compassion.  "  God  is  light,"  and  "  God 
is  love  "  ;  and  as  light  includes  a  variety  of  simple  colors, 
so  the  moral  principle,  as  distinct  from  the  natural  emotion, 
of  love  includes  a  variety  of  simple  graces.  One  and  the 
same  essence  pervades  them  all.  Our  Father  in  heaven 
loves  our  race,  loves  all  races,  loves  all  that  is  lovely,  and 
hates  ail  that  is  hateful.  His  love  of  moral  beauty  involves 
his  hatred  of  moral  deformity,  and  his  hatred  of  moral 
deformity  involves  his  choice  to  treat  it  according  to  its 
demerits  ;  and  his  choice  to  treat  it  according  to  its  demerits 
is  an  exercise  of  his  justice ;  and  the  essential  virtue  that  is 
breathed  forth  in  his  justice  is  the  same  adorable  virtue  that 
is  breathed  forth  in  his  grace.  In  his  darkest  providences 
he  is  light,  and  in  his  severest  he  is  love. 

If  there  is  a  comfort  in  sympathizing  with  men  of  enlarged 
mind  or  exquisite  sensibility,  there  must  be  an  inestimable 
joy  in  associating  with  the  holy  men  who  have  been  purified 
from  all  their  foul  stains,  whose  wills  have  been  spiritualized 
into  perfect  harmony  with  the  will  of  God.  Their  perfect 
holiness  has  exalted  them  above  the  highest  idea  which  we 
in  our  present  state  can  form  of  them.  "  I  have  heard 
divines  say,  those  virtues  that  were  but  sparks  upon  earth 
become  great  and  glorious  flames  in  heaven."  Perfect  holi- 
ness is  needed  for  the  most  healthful  play  of  the  intellect  and 
for  the  highest  improvement  of  the  taste.  The  fine  arts 
have  never  found  a  theme  so  congenial  as  the  forms  expres- 
sive of  and  hallowed  by  religion.  Architects  have  reared 
their  temples  to  him  who  dwelleth  in  the  hearts  of  the  lowly. 
But  the  very  souls  of  these  architects  themselves,  if  ennobled 
by  divine  grace,  are  nothing  more  than  an  edifice  in  which 
God  resides.  Painters  have  celebrated  the  trophies  of  his 
grace.  But  all  their  cunning  work,  and  even  their  minds 
themselves,  if  purified  from  sin,  are  but  the  framework  for 
the  likeness  of  him  in  whom  all  grace  dwells.     Minstrels 


THE  SATISFACTION   OP   THE   RIGHTEOUS   MAN.  367 

have  chanted  his  most  worthy  deeds ;  but  all  their  pure 
songs,  and  even  their  immortal  natures,  are  only  an  echo  of 
his  voice  all  wliosc  attril)utes  are  in  themselves  one  sym- 
phony. Before  his  throne,  day  and  night,  are  angels  and 
seraphs  rehearsing  with  glad  voices  his  wondrous  plan. 
But  they  are  all  like  the  casket  in  the  midst  of  which  his 
character  shines  as  the  pearl  of  infinite  price.  There  are 
Cowper  and  Watts,  Wilberf orce  and  Hall  and  Leighton ;  the 
great  orators  of  the  church,  Bernard  and  Chrysostom ;  the 
deep  philosophers  of  the  church,  Edwards  and  Augustine; 
and  myriads  of  loftier  intelligences,  seraphs  and  archangels 
—  all  prostrating  themselves  before  their  Sovereign,  not 
mainly  l:)ecause  his  intellectual  powers  are  infinite,  not  mainly 
because  he  has  an  immeasurable  delight  in  all  that  is  beau- 
tiful, but  mainly  for  this  one  reason,  "  The  Lord  our  God 
is  holy."  If  I  can  mingle  in  the  society  of  these  beatified 
spirits,  no  words  can  ever  give  utterance  to  my  joy ;  even 
although  all  of  them  are  creatures,  and  unable  to  meet  the 
full  demands  of  even  a  human  soul.  But  my  joy  shall  be 
full  —  "as  for  me,  I  shall  be  satisfied"  if  I  can  dwell  in 
intimate  communion  with  him  who  chargeth  even  the  angels 
with  comparative  folly,  and  before  whose  eyes  the  heavens 
are  comparatively  unclean.  For  "  Thou  wilt  show  me  the 
path  of  life ;  in  thy  presence  is  fulness  of  joy ;  at  thy  right 
hand  there  are  pleasures  for  evermore."  ^  For  thou  wilt 
make  me  most  "  blessed  forever  "  ;  thou  wilt  make  me  "  ex- 
ceeding glad  with  thy  countenance." 

The  common  idea  of  the  Christian  as  he  repeats  the  words 
of  the  text  is,  that  he  will  be  satisfied  with  the  character, 
the  form,  of  God.  But  there  is  another  idea  intimated  in 
this.  He  hopes  to  be  satisfied  in  having  a  form  like  that 
which  he  adores ;  in  possessing,  so  far  as  a  creature  is  able 
to  possess,  the  likeness  of  the  Creator.     It  is  supposed  by 

1  Ps.  xvi.  11.  These  words  tend  to  explain  the  meaning  of  the  term  "satis- 
fied."    See  Hnpfeld's  Commentary  on  the  Psalms,  Vol.  i.  pp.  355-357. 


868  THE   SATISFACTION    OF   THE  EIGHTEOUS   MAN. 

some  that  the  main  sentiment  of  the  verse  is  this  :  "  I  shall 
be  filled  full  of  joj  when  I  shall  awake  out  of  sleep,  and  find 
myself  ennobled  and  enriched  with  the  divine  character." 
The  version  of  our  text  in  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer  is : 
"  But  as  for  me,  I  will  behold  thy  presence  in  righteousness  ; 
and  when  I  awake  up  after  thy  likeness,  I  shall  be  satisfied 
with  it."  Some  men  regard  it  as  well-nigh  irreverent  to 
compare,  otherwise  than  to  contrast,  the  human  mind  with 
the  divine ;  but  there  are  miniature  portraits,  invisible  to 
the  naked  eye,  yet  bearing  a  complete  resemblance  to  men 
whose  features  have  an  inexpressible  dignity.  A  circle  of  a 
half-inch  diameter  is  in  the  exact  likeness  of  a  circle  com- 
prehending the  stars  of  heaven.  So  far  as  a  man  beholds 
the  divine  face  in  righteousness,  he  bears  the  divine  image. 
In  this  image  man  was  created ;  it  will  be  completely 
restored  when  he  awakes  in  the  light  and  bliss  of  heaven. 
We  are  enlivened  by  the  hope  of  being  in  the  likeness  of 
our  friends  who  when  on  earth  were  imperfect  models  for 
us  to  copy,  and  are  now  with  the  "  spirits  of  just  men  made 
perfect."  But  we  are  exhilarated  by  the  words  of  the  apostle : 
"  Beloved,  now  are  we  children  of  God,  and  it  is  not  yet  made 
manifest  what  we  shall  be.  We  know  that  if  [when]  he  shall 
be  manifested,  we  shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him 
even  as  he  is."  ^  To  be  in  the  likeness  of  God  the  Son,  who 
took  our  nature  in  order  that  we  may  take  his  character, 
may  share  his  honor  as  his  virtue,  may  be  co-heirs  with  him 
where  he  is,  promising  even  yet,  '  To  him  that  overcometh 
will  I  grant  to  sit  with  me  on  my  throne,  even  as  I  also 
overcame,  and  am  set  down  with  my  Father  on  his  throne  ' ; 
to  bear  the  spiritual  image  of  him  "  who  shall  fashion  anew 
the  body  of  our  humiliation  that  it  may  be  conformed  to  the 
body  of  his  glory  "  ;  ^  to  be  in  the  likeness  of  God  the  Father, 
who  is  ever  planning  for  the  welfare  of  his  children,  shower- 
ing down  gifts  upon  his  enemies,  parting  with  his  only 
begotten  Son  in  order  to  provide  a  home  for  those  who  hated 

ilJohniii.  2.  2  p^ii.  iii.  21. 


THE   SATISFACTION   OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS   MAN.  369 

him ;  to  be  in  the  hkeness  of  God  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  is 
ever  moving  among  ungrateful  men,  and  seeking  admission 
into  their  hearts ;  ever  dissuading  his  children  from  sin  as 
their  bane,  and  alluring  them  to  virtue  as  their  only  true 
honor  —  these  are  the  prospects  held  open  to  the  righteous  , 
man,  always  inspiriting  him  to  duty  and  sustaining  him  in 
sorrow  ;  "  for  I  reckon  that  the  sufferings  of  this  present 
time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  which 
shall  be  revealed  to  us-ward;"  "for  our  light  affliction, 
which  is  for  the  moment,  worketh  for  us  more  and  more 
exceedingly  an  eternal  weight  of  glory,"  ^ 

I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I  awake  in  thy  likeness  ;  for  I 
shall  awake  suddenly.  A  sleeper  opens  his  eyes,  and  in  an 
instant  the  light  of  day  flashes  upon  him.  He  passes  out 
of  dreams  into  the  clear  intelligence.  So  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye,  when  the  stupor  of  life  shall  close,  the  saint  will 
awake  in  the  bright  shining  of  the  sun.  There  shall  be  no 
long  purgatorial  delay.  There  shall  be  no  protracted  journey 
through  the  grave.  Tliere  shall  be  no  lengthened  twilight, 
during  whose  long-drawn  hours  the  saint  will  perceive 
nothing,  enjoy  nothing.  There  is  but  one  line  to  pass  over 
—  one  step,  the  step  of  a  child,  will  take  the  saint  over  that 
narrow  line ;  no  dreary  suspense,  no  dull  abode  of  fears, 
between  his  departure  from  this  life  and  his  complete  fru- 
ition of  the  next.  So  soon  as  he  rouses  himself  from  this 
dreamy  life,  so  soon  as  he  opens  his  vision  upon  the  radiant 
throne  of  God,  he  shall  be  satisfied  with  the  image  after 
which  his  whole  being  has  been  suddenly  moulded. 

And  as  the  commencement  of  this  joy  is  sudden,  so  is  the 
date  of  it  unceiiain.  Dr.  Chalmers  lay  down  at  night  dis- 
contented with  the  world  and  with  himself ;  the  griefs  of 
a  distracted  church  lay  heavy  on  his  mind ;  but  ere  the 
morning  sun  illumined  his  chamber   he  saw  the   spiritual 

^  Rom.  viii.  18 ;  2  Cor.  iv.  17.     See  Note  B,  at  the  end  of  the  sermon,  p.  376. 


370  THE   SATISFACTION   OF   THE   RIGHTEOUS   MAN. 

light  shining  above  the  brightness  of  the  material  sun ;  and 
while  enveloped  in  the  radiance  of  heaven,  his  mind,  once 
great,  and  now  greater  than  ever,  felt  the  force  of  the  words : 
'I  do  behold  thy  face  in  righteousness  ;  I  am  satisfied.'  Ever 
and  anon  we  read  of  a  good  man  stepping  on  the  steamboat 
for  a  brief  tour,  or  entering  the  rail-car  for  a  day's  excursion, 
and  within  a  few  hours  the  steamboat  sinks  to  the  bottom  of 
the  waters,  and  the  rail-car  is  shattered  into  fragments ;  ^ 
and  ere  those  heavy-laden  disciples  had  time  to  reflect  on 
the  rapidity  of  their  transition  they  had  made  their  journey 
to  the  land  whither  their  faith  and  hope  had  been  long 
tending.  "We  shed  our  tears  for  their  misfortune  ;  but  they 
shed  no  tears  for  what  we  call  their  misfortune.  We  clothe 
ourselves  with  weeds  for  their  mutilated  bodies  ;  —  their  mu- 
tilated bodies  ?  They  care  not  for  their  mutilated  bodies ; 
they  are  in  the  likeness  of  God.  In  one  moment  after  they 
beheld  their  danger  they  saw  the  face  of  tineir  Redeemer  as 
righteous  men,  and  each  exclaimed  :  '  As  for  me,  I  am  satis- 
fied.' We  remember  the  last  look  of  our  pious  friends  whom 
we  laid  in  their  graves  ;  we  mourn  over  their  altered  visage  ; 
—  their  altered  visage  ?  They  care  not  for  their  altered 
visage  ;  they  are  beholding  him  who  is  the  image  of  the 
Father,  and  are  transformed  into  the  same  image  from  glory 
to  glory. 

We  often  speak  in  piteous  tones  of  the  disciple  who  mourns 
over  his  life  seeming  to  him  a  failure,  and  counts  the  hours 
which  must  intervene  before  he  reaches  his  threescore  years 
and  ten.  Why  is  the  chariot  of  heaven  so  long  in  coming  ? 
is  his  impatient  cry.  But  the  chariot,  unseen  by  him,  has 
approached  near  to  him.  In  the  air  around  him  it  is  hover- 
ing with  its  convoy  of  angels,  and  ere  he  will  have  time  to 
.detect  its  rapid  movements  it  will  have  borne  him  aloft  to 

i  Kefercncc  was  here  made  to  the  Rev.  William  J.  Armstrong,  D.D.,  Secretary 
of  the  American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign  Missions,  who  died  in  the 
-wreck  of  a  steamboat  in  1846  ;  and  to  the  Rev.  H.  G.  0.  Dwight,  D.D.,  a  mis- 
«ionary  of  the  Board,  who  died  in  the  wreck  of  a  rail-car  in  1862;  —  two  eminent 
clergymen  greatly  beloved  where  this  sermon  was  preached. 


THE  SATISFACTION   OF    THE   RIGHTEOUS   MAN.  371 

the  scene  wLere  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling  and  the 
weary  are  at  rest.  We  speak  of  heaven  as  a  distant  and  a 
stationary  structure,  and  we  are  hngcring  shiggishly  for  our 
prolonged  conveyance  into  its  far-off  precincts  ;  but  why 
do  we  forget  the  elastic  nature  of  heaven,  that  it  even  now 
may  have  stretched  itself  out  within  reach  of  our  arms? 
"Why  do  we  forget  that  heaven  moves  about  among  men,  and 
at  this  moment  may  be  sailing  like  a  swift  ship  around  us, 
and  hngering  but  a  few  inches  from  us,  careering  to  and  fro, 
that  in  a  few  seconds  it  may  receive  us  as  partners  of  its 
rich  company  ?  We  speak  of  our  future  bliss  in  Paradise  ; 
but  why  do  we  not  remember  that  it  may  not  be  so  far  in 
the  future  as  the  trouble  which  we  are  predicting  for  the 
morrow  ?  The  anticipated  evil  may  be  so  remote  that  it 
never  will  overtake  us;  for  before  it  can  arrive  on  the 
morrow,  our  joys,  which  we  throw  into  the  distant  track  of 
coming  duration,  will  have  become  present,  ever  to  remain 
present,  and  incapable  of  knowing  a  change.  '  I  shall  be 
satisfied,'  —  so  may  the  renewed  man  begin  his  sentence,  as 
if  he  had  full  leisure  to  finish  it  on  earth,  one  undivided 
sentence  ;  but  his  very  liext  words  may  be  those  of  glad 
surprise,  as  he  ends  in  heaven  the  sentence  which  he  began 
on  earth,  — '  as  for  me,  I  do  behold  thy  face  in  righteous- 
ness ;  I  am  satisfied ;  for  I  am  now  awake  in  thy  likeness, 
to  sleep  no  more  forever.' 

"  As  for  me,  I  will  behold  thy  face,"  —  who  is  this  ?  ivho 
will  be  admitted  into  such  near  and  close  companionship  with 
God,  —  not  communing  with  him  by  symbols,  not  interpret- 
ing his  will  by  inferences,  not  standing  in  awe  behind  the 
veil  which  conceals  him  ?  Who  will  as  a  righteous  man  be 
welcomed  into  the  company  of  angels,  for  they  always  behold 
the  face  of  God  ;  the  company  of  all  the  elect  spirits,  for  on 
them  he  causeth  his  face  to  shine  ?  Who  wdll  come  so  near 
that  he  will  look  directly  into  the  visage  of  Jehovah  beaming 
with  a  love  so  refulgent  and  bright,  that  as  has  been  said, 


372  THE  SATISFACTION  OP  THE  RIGHTEOTTS  MAN. 

'  his  eyes  are  as  a  flame  of  fire,'  a  flame  of  fire  lighting  up 
the  deepest  recesses  of  the  heart  ?  The  face  of  the  Lord  is 
against  them  that  do  evil,  and  multitudes  will  exclaim,  "  Hide 
us  from  the  face  of  him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne."  No  man 
standing  on  his  own  worth  shall  behold  the  face  of  the  Lord 
and  live.  '  But  as  for  me,'  says  every  one  who  stands  on 
the  basis  of  atoning  love,  'I  shall  behold  his  face  without 
one  tremor.  With  all  my  sins  fresh  in  my  memory,  I  now 
look  into  the  grave  and  draw  not  back  ;  I  look  into  eternity 
and  waver  not ;  for  I  shall  stand  before  God  as  calmly  as  if 
I  had  never  disobeyed  him ;  in  my  measure  I  shall  be  like 
him,  and  while  in  his  image  I  shall  be  satisfied  witli  him, 
and  I  can  ask  no  more.' 

I  who  have  been  ever  grasping  all  within  my  reach,  and 
persisting  importunate  for  something  beyond  ;  griping  every 
imagined  good  on  every  side  of  me,  and  yet  clamorous  for  a 
larger  gain,  shall  I  ever  be  satisfied  ?  Content  with  spiritual 
good  ?  Shall  I  who  am  littleness  personified,  be  in  the  im- 
age of  the  Omnipresent  one  ?  Shall  I,  the  end  of  all  whose 
studies  has  been  to  learn  how  ignorant  and  stupid  I  am,  be 
in  the  likeness  of  his  omniscience  ?  Shall  I,  who  am  so  con- 
tracted, so  mean,  so  selfish,  be  in  the  form  of  that  love  which 
is  all  generous  ;  of  that  grace  which  is  the  model  of  true 
nobleness  ?  Is  that  image,  lost  in  Eden,  to  be  found  again ; 
is  that  broken  statue  to  be  remoulded,  its  finer  features 
reclaimed,  and  all  its  light  relumed  ? 

Then  there  is  a  regenerating  Spirit,  Then  the  love  that 
sanctifies  the  heart  must  be  no  human  love  but  almighty. 
Then  Miere  is  a  new  creating  power  alluring  to  the  good  from 
which  the  erring  man  would  otherwise  wander,  and  dissuad- 
ing from  the  baseness  into  which  the  soul  of  the  l^est  of  men 
loves  to  sink,  and  from  which  unaided  he  never  means  to 
rise.  Tlien  we  must  feel  our  dependence  on  him  who  gives 
eyes  to  the  blind  and  life  to  the  dead.  Then  we  must  bow 
in  thankfulness  before  him  who  brought  the  divinity  down  to 


THE   SATISFACTION   OF   THE   RIGHTEOUS   MAN.  3i3 

earth  in  order  that  he  might  raise  humanity  to  the  skies  ; 
who  was  in  the  form  of  God  and  took  the  form  of  man  in 
order  that  we  might  awake  in  the  very  image  of  him  with 
whom  we  shall  be  satisfied. 

If  we  are  to  be  in  this  image,  then  we  must  cheerfully 
submit  to  all  the  influences  needed  for  our  transformation. 
Here  and  now  the  heart  is  of  a  cold  and  hard  marble.  Many 
a  blow  must  be  struck  upon  this  marble  heart.  Many  an 
excrescence  must  be  cut  out  of  this  stony  heart.  Many  a 
sharp  line  must  be  drawn  upon  this  rocky  heart.  By  severe 
friction  is  it  to  become  the  polished  statue,  like  its  living 
archetype.  By  a  thousand  pains  and  throes  is  it  to  become 
the  recipient  of  a  life  which  shall  warm  the  very  marble  into 
a  spiritual  beauty.  By  a  thousand  nameless  agonies,  is  this 
heart  and  soul  of  stone  to  be  made  flesh.  Let  the  chisel  and 
the  file  not  be  resentfully  thrown  aside.  Let  the  Great 
Sculptor  be  trusted  in  all  his  operations  of  mysterious 
though  cutting  skill.  '  Let  me  endure,'  may  every  afflicted 
disciple  say,  '  all  the  contusions  needful  for  my  discipline. 
Let  me  bear  losses  of  property,  of  fame,  of  friends,  of  health, 
and  of  all  earthly  peace  ;  let  me  leave  the  joys  of  this  world 
to  those  who  look  for  nothing  higher  and  nothing  better,  — 
but  as  for  me,  when  I  am  fully  adorned  with  thy  righteous- 
ness, I  shall  behold  thine  approving  face,  and  when  I  awake 
to  this  clear  view  of  thyself,  and  find  my  own  soul  trans- 
formed into  thy  likeness,  I  shall  be  satisfied.' 


374  THE  SATISFACTION   OF   THE  RIGHTEOUS  MAN. 


]^OTES. 


Note  A,  to  Page  360. 

Many  passages  relating  to  the  Redeemer  are  interpreted  by  evan- 
gelical critics  as  referring  proximately  to  the  ideal  man,  of  whom 
there  is  a  partial  realization  in  the  good  men  on  earth,  but  a  more 
complete  realization  in  Christ  and  in  him  only.  On  a  similar  prin- 
ciple prophecies  relating  to  the  blessedness  of  the  righteous  may 
be  interpreted  as  referring  proximately  to  the  ideal  blessedness,  of 
which  there  is  a  partial  realization  in  the  good  men  on  earth,  but  a 
more  complete  realization  in  the  future  life,  and  in  that  life  only. 
Some  of  the  six  or  seven  varying  interpretations  given  to  Ps.  xvii. 
15  might  be  in  some  measure  reconciled  with  each  other,  if  they 
should  be  interpreted  as  referring,  one  to  a  lower,  and  another  to  a 
higher,  degree  of  this  blessedness  ideally  described  in  the  text,  —  the 
lower  degree  not  excluding,  perhaps  even  symbolizing,  the  higher. 
If  the  text  be  regarded  as  part  of  an  evening  song,  as  a  prediction 
of  rising  to  new  duties  in  the  morning,  it  may  represent  one  degree  of 
holy  joy  in  God,  and  this  may  be  typical  of  a  still  loftier  degree. 
If  the  text  be  interpreted  as  pointing  to  a  state  of  mental  darkness 
and  distress  under  the  symbol  of  the  night,  and  to  a  state  of  mental 
illumination  and  transport  under  the  symbol  of  the  morning,  it  may 
represent  an  amount  of  blessedness  more  elevated  than  that  which 
is  occasioned  by  a  new  day,  and  typical  perhaps  of  a  blessedness 
more  elevated  still.  If  the  text  be  interpreted  as  describing  the 
state  of  the  soul  in  the  present  life  shadowed  so  deeply  by  sin,  and 
the  state  of  the  soul  as  soon  as  it  enters  the  future  life  illumined  by 
the  divine  glory,  it  may  represent  such  a  degree  of  joy  in  God  as  is 
expressed  by  the  term  satisfaction  with  Him.  If  the  text  be  inter- 
preted as  predicting  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  it  has  a  yet  fuller 
import  than  if  it  be  interpreted  in  any  other  way.  It  includes  what 
the  other  interpretations  include  and  more  also.  The  other  inter- 
pretations are  in  harmony  with  each  other ;  this  interpretation  rises 
into  a  striking  and  delightful  harmony  with  the  fact  of  Christ's 
resurrection,  and  the  glories  that  follow  it. 


THE   SATISFACTION   OF  THE  RICxHTEOUS   MAN.  375 

Some  thiuk  that  the  Psalmist  cannot  refer  to  the  soul's  awaking 
out  of  the  present  life  into  the  state  which  immediately  follows  the 
death  of  the  body,  for  they  suppose  that  in  the  Psalmist's  view  this 
is  a  state  of  partial  or  total  unconsciousness,  —  not  a  state  into  which 
men  can  be  said  to  "  awake."  They  cite  Ps.  vi.  5  ;  xxx.  9  ;  Ixxxviii. 
10  [11,  12]  cxv.  17  ;  xxxix.  13.  (See  De  "Wette's  Commentary  on 
the  Psalms,  pp.  177, 178,  Heidelberg,  4th  ed.).  We  cannot  accept  this 
account  of  the  Psalmist's  eschatology.  Many  suppose  that  through- 
out the  Old  Testament  the  soul  is  represented  as  being  in  a  state  of 
slumber  immediately  after  death,  and  it  is  inapposite  to  speak  of 
"  awaking  "  into  this  condition  of  sleep.  To  this  we  reply  that  our 
Christian  literature  often  pictures  the  state  of  the  dead  as  a  state 
of ''  dreamless  repose,"  and  still  it  often  pictures  good  men  as  awak- 
ing to  a  state  of  new  activity  when  they  die.  Figures  of  speech  are 
not  to  be  treated  like  figures  in  arithmetic.  Many  passages  in  the 
Old  Testament  are  like  the  Syrian  mountains,  appearing  sombre  at 
night,  but  resplendent  when  the  sun  rises  upon  them.  The  New 
Testament  illumines  the  Old,  and  brings  to  light  the  beauties  and 
glories  which  were  previously  in  comparative  darkness.  We  are 
unable  to  determine  how  definite  were  the  Psalmist's  anticipations 
of  the  lower  blessedness  awaiting  him  as  soon  as  his  soul  should 
leave  the  body,  and  of  the  higher  blessedness  awaiting  him  as  soon 
as  his  soul  should  be  united  with  a  more  glorious  body  ;  but  there 
are  reasons  for  supposing  that  in  our  text  he  expressed  his  general 
anticipation  of  the  ideal  blessedness  which  will  be  realized  in  the 
present  less  fully  than  in  the  future  life,  and  in  the  state  before  the 
resurrection  less  fully  than  in  the  state  after  it.  We  must  remem- 
ber that  various  truths  shining  in  the  New  Testament  are  said  to  be 
shadowed  forth  in  the  Old ;  see  Col.  ii.  17  ;  Heb.  viii.  5  ;  x.  1.  Com- 
mentators err  if  they  insist  on  finding  the  shadow  as  distinct  and 
solid  as  the  substance. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  that  even  De  Wette  interprets  our  text 
as  foretelling  the  resurrection  after  the  sleep  of  death,  and  he  refers 
for  comparison  to  2  Kings  iv.  31  sq. ;  Jer.  li.  39  ;  Job  xiv.  12  sq.; 
Isa.  xxvi.  19;  especially  Dan.  xii.  2.  Many  rationalistic  commen- 
tators agree  with  him.  and  hence  conclude  that  the  seventeenth 
Psalm  was  written  not  by  David,  but  by  some  one  who  lived  after 
the  Exile.  The  confidence  with  M'hich  they  defend  their  conclusion 
betrays  their  confidence  in  their  premise.     The  majority  of  Calvin- 


376  THE   SATISFACTION   OF   THE  RIGHTEOUS   MAN. 

istic  commentators,  unlike  Calvin  himself,  interpret  the  text  as 
definitely  teaching  the  doctrine  that  the  body  will  be  raised  from  the 
grave.  The  following  extract  from  a  sermon  by  Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgeon 
harmonizes  with  their  general  interpretation. 

"  The  saints  in  heaven  have  not  yet  awaked  in  God's  likeness. 
The  bodies  of  the  righteous  still  sleep,  but  they  are  to  be  satisfied 
on  the  resurrection  morn,  when  they  awake.  When  a  Roman  con- 
queror had  been  at  war,  and  won  great  victories,  he  would  return  to 
Rome  with  his  soldiers,  enter  privately  into  his  house,  and  enjoy 
himself  till  the  next  day,  when  he  would  go  out  of  the  city  to  re- 
enter it  publicly  in  triumph.  Now  the  saints,  as  it  were,  enter 
privately  into  heaven  without  their  bodies  ;  but  on  the  last  day, 
when  their  bodies  wake  up,  they  will  enter  in  their  triumphal 
chariots.  Methiuks  I  see  that  grand  procession,  when  Jesus  Christ, 
first  of  all,  with  many  crowns  on  his  head,  with  his  bright,  glorious, 
immortal  body,  shall  lead  the  way.  Behind  him  come  the  saints, 
each  of  them  clapping  [his]  hands,  or  pouring  sweet  melody  from 
[his]  golden  [harp]  ;  all  entering  in  triumph.  And  when  they 
come  to  heaven's  gates,  and  the  doors  are  opened  wide  to  let  the 
King  of  glory  in,  how  will  the  angels  crowd  at  the  windows  and  on 
the  house-tops,  like  the  inhabitants  in  the  Roman  triumphs,  to  watch 
the  pompous  procession,  and  scatter  heaven's  roses  and  lilies  upon 
them,  crying,  '  Hallelujah  !  hallelujah  !  hallelujah  !  the  Lord  God 
omnipotent  reigneth.'  '  I  shall  be  satisfied '  in  that  glorious  day 
when  all  the  angels  of  God  shall  come  to  see  the  triumphs  of  Jesus, 
and  when  his  people  shall  be  victorious  with  him"  (Treasury  of 
David,  Vol.  i.  p.  263). 

Note  B,  to  Page  369. 

In  this  discourse  prominence  is  given  to  the  spiritual  blessedness  of 
heaven,  and  especially  to  that  indicated  in  the  words  of  the  Psalmist : 
"  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ?  and  there  is  none  upon  earth 
that  I  desire  besides  thee."  This  prominence  is  entirely  consistent 
with  the  fact  that  the  body,  when  raised  from  the  grave  and  glori- 
fied, will  be  the  inlet  of  other  joys  than  those  of  the  mere  spirit. 
The  idea  of  the  reward  given  to  the  righteous  may  be  illustrated  by 
the  idea  of  the  punishment  inflicted  on  the  wicked.  Throughout 
the  present  volume  prominence  is  given  to  the  moral,  as  distinct 
from  the  positive,  sufferings  of  the  incorrigible.     This  prominence 


THE   SATISFACTION   OF  THE   RIGHTEOUS   MAN.  377 

is  entirely  consistent  with  the  fact  that,  when  the  body  of  the  im- 
penitent man  is  raised  from  the  grave,  it  will  be  the  inlet  of  other 
pains  than  those  of  the  mere  spirit.  Some  writers  describing 
heaven  d(;em  it  wise  to  make  its  material  beauties  most  conspicuous. 
They  suppose  that  it  will  not  be  attractive  to  impenitent  men  unless 
it  be  portrayed  as  a  scene  of  pleasing  sights  and  sounds.  Other 
writers  fear  that  these  portraitures  of  heaven  will  encourage  a  super- 
ficial piety,  or  will  lead  men  to  mistake  their  natural  love  of  the 
beautiful  for  the  holy  love  of  the  true  and  good.  Some  of  these 
writers  regard  the  external  glories  of  heaven  as  mere  symbols  to  its 
internal  blessedness.  Now  we  admit  that  they  are  symbols  while 
we  cannot  admit  that  they  are  mere  symbols.  They  do  form  a  lan- 
guage which  can  be  translated  into  a  description  of  the  happiness 
resulting  from  the  holiness  of  the  upper  world  ;  but  the  language  is 
itself  a  beauty.  The  walls  and  gates,  the  river  and  the  trees,  of 
heaven  are  signs  of  its  moral  excellence  and  of  the  resulting  joy  ; 
but  they  make  the  impression  that  heaven  will  abound  with  such 
external  signs  as  add  new  joys  to  its  internal  blessedness,  —  that  the 
signs  themselves  are  grand  and  glorious  realities.  The  spiritual  joys 
of  the  saints  are  symbolized  by  outward  beauties  which  have  in 
themselves  a  real  worth,  a  substantial  value. 


INDEX. 


Active,  obedience  of  Christ  a  part  of  the 
gospel,   97. 
virtues  fostered  by  the  gospel,  98. 
Acts  the  most  powerful  words,  71,  79, 

84. 
Adam,  consequences  of  the  fall  of,  211 
sqq.     See  Table  of  Contents,  Ser- 
mon IX.,  The  System  of  Moral  In- 
fluences in  which  Men  are  placed ; 
quotations  on,  from  Andover  Sem- 
inary   Creed,    Westminster  Cate- 
chism, and  Bishop  Butler,  215  n. 
numerous  analogies  between  Christ 
and,  230  sqq. 
Adams,  John,  7  n.  2. 

on  the  prayer  at  the  opening  of  Con- 
gress, 19  n. 
to  his  son,  on  conscience,  31  n. 
Adams,  Samuel,  moving  that  prayer  be 

offered  in  Congress,  19  n. 
Addison's  opinion  of  Tillotson,  41. 
Afflictions,    Christ's    character    influ- 
enced by,  316  sqq. 
constitutional   peculiarities    modify- 
ing the  effect  of,  328  sqq. 
God's  benevolence  in,  165. 
Alembert  quoted  on  religious  zeal,  7 

n.  1. 
Analogies,  between  Adam  and  Christ, 
230  sqq. 
between  the  cross  and  nature,  92. 
Ancestors,  Christ's  interest  in  his,  306 

sqq. 
Andover  Seminary  and  Whitefield,  44. 
Animals,  and  men,  mutual  influences 
of,  212  sqq. 
illustrating  mental  or  moral  qualities, 
214  n. 
Antediluvians,  God's  love  for,  161. 
Anticipation,  of  death,  Christ's  sorrows 
in,  328-355.      See  Table  of  Con- 
tents, Sermon  XIIT. 
of  rewards  and  punishments  excited 
by  conscience,  265,  266,  277,  294. 
Antiquity,   divinely   implanted   rever- 
ence for,  18. 
reverence  for,  resulting  in  a  rever- 
ence for  God's  eternity,  142  sq. 
Aphorisms, Harrington's  Political, quo- 
ted, 18. 
Whichcote's  quoted,  182  n. 


Approval   of  conscience.      See   Com- 
placency. 
Artists  rising  from  poverty,  250. 
Arts  connected  with  Christ,  51. 

influencing  Christ's  development, 
299  sqq. 

originating  in  God's  love  of  beauty, 
363,  364. 

progress  in  the,  363. 

stimulated  by  religion,  366. 
Association  of  ideas,  206,  222  sqq. 
Atonement,  4.5-68,  97-116.    See  Table 
of  Contents,  Sermons  II.  and  IV. 

adapted  to  the  constitution  of  the 
soul,  92  sq. 

appreciated  by  children,  61. 

central  truth  of  the  gospel,  48,  49, 
55,  62,  112,  176,  233. 

comprehensiveness  of,  50  sqq.,  99, 
100,  236,  237. 

connected  with  the  evil  of  sin,  57, 
222,  258. 

designed  from  eternity,  146,  334. 

equivalent  to  the  punishment  ex- 
pressed by  the  law,  85,  86, 345  sqq. 

explained  by  other  truths,  56  sqq. 

explanatory  of  other  truths,  55  sqq. 

expressive  of  the  divine  feelings,  84 
sqq. 

happiness  resulting  from,  206. 

harmonizes  with  other  parts  of  di- 
vine administration,  84  sqq. 

Jionors  the  law  and  justice  of  God, 
85  sqq.,  289,  346  sqq. 

interests  the  imagination  and  judg- 
ment, 59  sq. 

is  the  language  of  God  in  his  acts,  84. 

leads  to  the  acceptance  of  all  reli- 
gious truth,  105. 

necessity  of,  an  inference  from  con- 
science, 283. 

only  means  of  appeasing  remorse, 
264  n.  2,  265  n.  2,  275,  289,  346, 
347  n.  1. 

philosophers  and  poets  interested  in, 
59-61. 

popular  definitions  of,  54. 

power  of,  07-116.  See  Table  of  Con- 
tents, Sermon  IV".  The  Power  of 
the  Gospel. 

power  of,  increasing  with  time,  95, 96. 

prefigured  by  sacrifices,  313,  346. 
379 


380 


INDEX. 


Atonement,  prominence  of,  45-68.    See 
Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  II. 

substitution  of  Christ's  pains  for 
men's  punishment,  85  sqq.,  345 
sqq. 

synibolizcci  in  the  Lord's  supper,  124, 
233. 

unitinj^  destiny  of  Christians  with 
Christ,  129  sqq. 

universe  created  for,  192  sqq. 

what  it  includes,  88,  193,318,  334, 
344  sqq. 
Attributes   of  God,  are   God  himself, 
137. 

exhibited  in  Christ,  50,  145  sqq. 

grace  the  most  jxlorious  of,  55,  56. 

harmony  of  all  the,  140  sqq. 

love  comprehending  all  the  moral, 
155-180.  See  Table  of  Contents, 
Sermon  VII. 

manifestation  of,  appropriate,  76,  81, 
190. 

manifestation  of,  inseparable  from 
exercise  of,  75,  189,  196. 

manifested  in  his  works,  69-96.  See 
Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  III. 

pleasure  which  God  has  in  exercise 
of,  79,  80,  182-185. 

universe  created  for  the  manifestation 
of,  189  sqq. 

See  Benevolence,  Eternity,  Grace, 
Holiness,  Immutability,  Justice, 
Omnipotence,  Omnipresence,  Om- 
niscience, Self-existence,  Veracity, 
Wisdom. 
Augustine  quoted,  122,  125. 
Authority,  of  conscience,  276  sqq. 

of  kings,  Baxter  on,  27  n.  1. 
"Awaking,"  death  an,  360. 

in  Psalra  17  :  15,  different  interpre- 
tations of,  374  sq. 

B. 

Barrow's  influence  on  Lord  Chatham's 

style,  41. 
Baxter,  labors  of,  13. 

quotations  from,  27  n.  1,  358,  359. 
Beauty,  arts  originating  in  God's  love 
fo'r,  3G3,  364. 
natural  and  moral,  363-365. 
Belief  influenced    by  conscience,    279 

sqq. 
Believers.     See  Christians. 
Benevolence,  155-180.     See  Love,  and 
Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  VII. 
clergy   promoters   of  Christian,   36 

sqq. 
divine  attribute,  56,  156,  185  sqq. 
essence  of  virtue,  365. 


Benevolence,  eternity  of  the  divine,  14^ 
174. 
general,  179. 
Bible,  exciting  interest  in  the  scenery 
of  Palestine,  306,  307. 
influencing     Christ's     development, 

30.5-308. 
value  of  Christ's  opinions  on,  299  n. 
Blessedness.     See  Happiness. 
Bodies  of  Christians,  in  the  image  of 
Christ's  body,  52. 
united  with  Christ,  134. 
Brainerd,  David,  and  Princeton  Col- 
lege, 44. 
Brougham's  Discours-e  of  Natural  The- 
ology quoted,  245. 
Burke  and  Wilt^rforce,  43. 
Butler,  Bishop,  influence  of,  10. 

quotations  from,  215  n.,  292,  294. 
Buxton,  Sir  Fowell,  quoted,  8,  9. 


Calvin  quoted,  133. 

Central   character  of  the  atonement, 

49-62,  112  sqq.,  176,  233. 
Character,  Christ's,  as  human,  how  in- 
fluenced, 297-327.     See  Table  of 
Contents,  Sermon  XII. 

Christ's,  variety  in  presentation  of, 
59  sqq. 

Christ's  words  to  be  interpreted  by 
his,  .352,  353. 

Christ's  work  and,  49-62. 

comprehensiveness  of  Christ's,  98, 99, 
328. 

interaction  of  conscience  and,  285sqq. 

of  believers  derived  from  Christ,  and 
specifically  the  same  with  his,  117- 
119. 

of  God,  expression  of,  appropriate, 
76,  81,  190. 

of  God,  importance  of  knowing,  155. 

of  God,  language  incompetent  to  ex- 
press, 168,  184,  190,  191,  361  sqq. 

of  God,  manifested  in  his  works,  69— 
96.  See  Table  of  Contents,  Ser- 
mon III. 

of  God,  satisfying  the  righteous  man, 
356-377.  See  Table  of  Contents, 
Sermon  XIV. 

of  God,  tlie  righteous  to  be  partakers 
of,  367  sqq. 

shown  in  view  of  death,  328. 
Charity   the   product  of  Christianity, 

257  sqq. 
Chesterfield,  Lord,  quoted,  357,  358, 

359  n.2. 
Childhood   of  Christ,    297-327.      See 
Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  XII. 


INDEX. 


381 


Children,  appreciating  the  atonement, 

61. 
mutual    influence   of   parents    and, 

218  sqq 
Chillini,^worth,   recommended    to    law- 
students,  40,  41. 
Warren,  ]\Iansficld,  Tillotson,  Locke, 

and  Clarendon  on,  40,  41. 
Choice  inseparable  from  moral  agent, 

262. 
<  hrist,  45-68,  97-136,  297-355.     See 

Table  of  Contents,  Sermons  If., 

IV,,  v.,  XIL,  XIII. 
analogies   between  Adam   and,   230 

sqq. 
apijcalinp:  to  our  gratitude,  101. 
Bible,  value  of  his  opinions  on,  299  n. 
claims   made    for    himself  by,  329, 

3.30.  ^ 

comprehensiveness  of  character  and 

work  of,  49-62,  98  sqq.,  112. 
conscience  affording  no  relief  to,  in 

death,  290,  291,  329. 
deatli  of,  the  great  event  in  his  earthly 

existence,  175,  176,  194,  195,  216, 

233,  318,  3.34,  351,  354. 
deity  of,  affecting  his  feelinss  in  view 

of  death,  336  sqq.,  344,  345, 
deity  of,  proved  by  his  eternity,  145. 
foreknowledge  possessed  bv,  126  sqq., 

314,315. 
future  blessedness  derived  from,  52, 

127  sqq.,  i05, 
glory  of,  a  reward  for  suffering,  175, 

194,  195,  318,  .3.34,  351-355.  | 

history  of,  contrasts   presented   by,  , 

106  sqq,,  328  sqq.  (Sermon  XIII.)  ' 
history   of,  power  of,  97-116.     See  i 

Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  IV. 
humanity  of,  109,  297,  322.  i 

incarnation  of,  the  purpose  in,  351,     ' 
influences  acting  upon,  297-327.    See  ' 

Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  XII.     | 
love  for,  a  constraining  motive,  64, 

101,  105. 
Messiahship  of,  proofs  of,  235,  245, 

255. 
omnipresent,  122. 
patriotism  commended  by,  36. 
sensitive  nature  of,  339. 
Bin  abhorred  by,  345, 
sinlessness  of,  329,  330. 
sorrow  of,  in  anticipation  of  death, 

328-355.     See  Table  of  Contents, 

Sermon  XIII. 
symmetry  in  nature  of,  98,  328, 
sympathy  of,  324,  339,  341  sqq, 
the  head  of  the  church,  133, 
the  ideal  man,  95,  374, 


[  Christ,  the  intercessor,  86,  124, 
the  model,  127,  128,  319  sqq. 
the  truth,  106,  122,  123. 
'      union  of  Christians  with,  117-136. 
I  Sec  Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  V. 

[       unity  in  work  of,  53  sqq. 
universe  made  for,  192,  203, 
variety  in  presenting  character  and 

work  of,  50  sqq. 
words  of,  how  to  be  interpreted,  352 

sqq. 
See  Atonement. 
Christians,  comforted  by  thoughts  on 
God's  eternity,  147-150. 
divine  character  giving  satisfaction 

to,  361  sqq. 
divine  image  possessed  by,  118,  119, 

367-371.'" 
nature  harmonious  with  feelings  of, 

89. 
temple  of  God,  120,  121. 
united   with   Christ,   117-136.     See 
Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  V. 
Church,  strength,  dignity,  and  blessed- 
ness of  the,  132-13.5", 
truth  has  more  power  when  heard  in 
the,  244  sqq. 
Claims   made  for  himself  by   Christ, 

329,  330 
Clarendon,  Lord,  quoted  on  Chilling- 
worth,  40,  41. 
Clergy,  1-44,  234-259.     See  Table  of 
Contents,  Sermons  I.,  The  Indebt- 
edness of  the  State  to  the  Clergy; 
X,,   The  Gospel  preached   to  the 
Poor, 
benefactors  of  the  poor,  by  proclaim- 
ing doctrines,  247  sqq.,  257  sqq, 
dignity  of  work  of,  95,  96, 
duty  of  46  sqq. 
encouragements  and  inspirations  of, 

135,  136,  208,  209,  274, 
genius  among,  12,  13, 
holding  an  ofhce  divinely  instituted,4. 
interpreters  of  nature  and  revelation, 

94  sq, 
orators  among,  237  sqq. 
rising  from  poverty,  250,  251, 
State  indebted   to",   1-44,  228.     See 
Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  I. 
Coleridge  quoted,  295,  296, 
Colleges.     See  Education. 
Complacency  of  conscience,  73,  81,  263, 

264. 
Comprehensiveness,  of  Christ's  charac- 
ter and  work,  49-62,  98  sqq.,  112, 
of  God's   government    and    nature, 

162  sqq.,  180.     See  Sermon  VIL 
of  the  atonement,  49-62,  98  sqq.,  236. 


382 


INDEX. 


Conditrnitv  and  con<jruity.     See  Merit. 
Conscience,   260-296.      See   Table  of 
Contents,  Sermon  XI. 
actinp:    exceptionally   in    Christ    at 

death,  290,  291,  329. 
appeased  onl^'  bv  the  atonement,  264 
n.  2,  265  n.  2,"  275,  289,  346,  347 
n.  1.  j 

civil  laws  conflictinc:  with,  25.  i 

demands  of,  176,  264,  277,  280.  ! 

expresses  God's  feelinji-s,  73,  81,  82. 
quotations  on,  31  n.,  33,  33  n. 
unforgiving,  151,  168. 
Constitution,  of  a  man  affecting   his 
leelings  in  affliction,  328  sq. 
of  the  soul,  atonement  adapted  to, 
92  sq. 
Contrasts  presented  in  Christ's  history, 

106  sqq.,  328  sqq. 
Corinth,  Paul  at,  63. 
Corruption  of  language  by  men,  190, 

191. 
Courage  and  cowardice,  affected  by  cir- 
cumstances, 328  sqq. 
caused  by  conscience,  287  sqq. 
Cowper    influenced    by    Newton,    43, 

246. 
Creation.     See  Table  of  Contents,  Ser- 
mons III.,  The  Revelation  of  God 
in  his  Works  ;  VIII.,  The  Design 
of  God  in  his  Work  of  Creation. 
Cross,  analogies  between  nature  and, 
92,  93. 
sufferings  of  Christ  on,  G38  sqq. 
See  Atonement. 

D. 
Death,  of  Christ,  328-355.     See  Table 
of  Contents,  Sermon  XIII.,  The 
Sorrow  of  the  Redeemer  in  Antici- 
pation of  his  Death.     See  Atone- 
ment. 
Psalmist's  views  of,  374,  375. 
symbolizing  eternal  death,  342. 
uncertainty  as  to  time  of,  369,  370. 
Decrees  formed  from  eternity,  146,  148, 1 

149,  186. 
Deity  of  Christ,  affecting  his  feelings  | 
in  view  of  death,  336  sqq.,  344.        | 
proved  by  his  eternity,  145.  ; 

Demerit  perceived  by  conscience,  263  ' 
sqq.  I 

Dependence  of  God  upon  his  creatures  ! 
is  dependence  upon  himself,  198 1 
sqq. 
Desert.  See  Demerit,  Merit,  Punish- 
ment, Tveward.  I 
Desertion  of  Christ  bv  the  Father,  114,  i 
115,  349,  3.5(1,  352-355.  I 


De  Wette  on  the  Psalmist's  eschatologj, 
375. 

Discipline  required  to  change  character, 

373. 
Displacency  of  conscience,  81  sqq.,  263, 

264,  284. 
Distributive  justice,  176  sqq. 
Doctrines,  Christ  connected  with  all, 
50-52,  112. 
the  poor  benefited  by  the  preaching 

of,  257-259. 
unity  of,  112,  113,  258. 
Dryden's  indebtedness  to  Tillotson,  41. 
Duties,   all  have  reference  to  Christ, 
48,  51,  52. 
perceived  by  conscience,  262  sqq. 
power   of  conscience   suggested   by 
idea  of,  276. 

E. 

Ecclesiastes,  author  of,  on  unsatisfac- 
toriness  of  the  world,  359. 

Education,  influence  ofthe  clergy  upon, 
6-14,  40-44. 
of  Christ,  297-327.  See  Table  of 
Contents,  Sermon  XII.,  Influences 
affecting  the  Character  of  Christ 
considered  as  a  Man. 

Edwards,    Jonathan,    quoted,    89-91, 
135,  200. 

Eloquence,  argument  for  theism  from 
extemporaneous,  245. 
pulpit,  237-246. 

Eternity,  of  God,  137-154.     See  Table 
of  Contents,  Sermon  VI. 
of  the  love  of  Christ  for  his  disciples, 

126,  129. 
thought  of,   expanding    the    mind, 
142-144. 

Evidence  for  the  gospel,  external  and 
internal,  235. 

Expiatory  character  of  Christ's  suffer- 
ings, 345  sqq.     See  Atonement. 


Faith,  includes  love,  164,  258. 

in   God's  government  increased  by 

knowledge  of  his  love,  171. 
in  God's  sovereignty,  resulting  from 
consideration  of  the  moral  system, 
217,  218. 
in  success  of  God's  plans,  175,  208. 
of  Paul  in  Christ,  65  sqq. 
Fall  of  man,  the  results  of,  210-233. 
See  Table   of  Contents,   Sermon 
IX.,  The  System  of  Moral  Influ- 
ences in  wliirii  Men  are  placed. 
Favor,  truth  communicated  to  men  in 
the  form  of,  104,  105. 


INDEX. 


383 


Fear,  Christ's  temptations  to,  315. 
inspired   in   the  ungodly  by  God's 
eternity,  150  sqq. 
Figures  of  speech,  applied  to  God,  168, 
214. 
not  to  be  rigidly  interpreted,  375. 
regarding  the  divine  justice  resemble 
the  figures   regarding  the  human 
conscience,  168,  271,  272. 
Fitness,  of  God's  expressing  his  char- 
acter, 76,  81. 
of  signs  employed  by  God  to  reveal 
himself,  71  sqq. 
Fleming  quoted,  292. 
Fordyce  quoted,  278. 
Foreknowledge,  126,  129, 147  sqq.,  201 
n.  2,314. 
Christ's,  in  reference  to  his  suffer- 
ings, 315. 
Forgiveness  mysterious,  113, 114,  284. 
Forsaking  of  Christ  by  the  Father,  114, 

115,  349,  350,  352-355. 
Franklin,  Dr.,  19  n. 

G. 

General  justice,  176-180. 
Genius  among  the  clergy,  12,  13. 
Glory,  of  Christ  a  reward  for  his  hu- 
miliation,  175,  176,  194,  195,  334. 

351,  352,  355. 
of  God  and  its  manifestation,  195- 

201,  265  n.  1. 
God,  69-96,   137-209.     See  Table   of 

Contents,  Sermons  III.,  VI.-VIII. 
adoration  of,  prompted  by  knowledge 

of  undiscovered  things,  202,  203. 
appeals  to  conscience,  276  sq. 
art  has  its  source  in,  363,  364. 
comprehensiveness    of    nature    and 

government  of,  165-167,  179,  180. 
dwells  with  the  humble,  253. 
existence  of,  argued  from  extempora- 
neous eloquence,  245. 
existence  of,  indicated  by  conscience, 

279-281. 
faith  in,   caused   by  observation   of 

moral  system,  217,  218. 
figures  of  speech   applied   to,    168, 

214. 
greatness  of,  253. 
image  of,  in  godly  men,  118,  367- 

372. 
incomprehensible,  144,  145. 
intellccr  of,  satisfying  the  righteous, 

361,362. 
knowkd-rc  has  its  source  in,  196, 197, 

362,  363. 
language  inadequate  to  describe,  168, 

184,  190,  191,  361,  363,  365. 


God,  laws  of  nature  and  mind  expres- 
sive of  character  of,  69-74. 

reverence  for,  increased  by  his  eter- 
nity, 142. 

satisfaction  of  the  righteous  man  in 
the  character  of.  360  sqq.  See  Ta- 
ble of  Contents,  Sermon  XIV. 

sensibilities  of,  satisfying  the  right- 
eons,  363-365. 

sin  hated  by,  82,  158,  168,  344. 

speech  contrived  by,  74,  246. 

temple  of,  in  good  men,  121. 

See  Attributes,  Character,  Govern- 
ment, Happiness,  Trinity. 
Gospel,  97,  236,  237. 

elevating  influence  of,  16,  37. 

power  of,  97-116.  See  Table  of 
Contents,  Sermon  IV. 

preached  to  the  poor,  234-259.     See 
Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  X. 
Government  (civil),  advantages   of  a 
republican  form  of,  34,  35. 

aims  to  satisfy  instinctive  impulses 
of  the  people,  3,  4. 

divine  origin  of,  17,  18. 

indebted  to  the  clergy,  1-44.  See 
Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  I. 

theories  of,  17,  18. 
Government    (divine),  comprehensive- 
ness of,  165  sqq.,  180,  218. 

confidence  in,  increased  by  knowl- 
edge of  God's  love,  171. 

fatherly,  165. 

harmony  of  atonement  with,  84. 

objections  raised  against,  171  sqq. 

reasonableness  of,  8-1  sqq. 

unity  of,  163. 
Grace  the  most  glorious  form  of  love, 

56,  158. 
Grandeur,  of  God's  eternity,  144,  147. 

of  the  heavens,  69  sqq. 
Gratitude  appealed  to  by  the  atone- 
ment, 101. 

H. 
Hale,  Dr.,  quoted,  199  n. 
Hall,  Robert,  102. 

had  an  influence  on  literature,  41. 
labored  among  the  poor,  34. 
quoted,  187  n.,  257. 
Hallock,  Moses,  influence  of,  on  educa- 
tion, 43. 
Hamilton,  Sir  William,  referred  to,  296. 
Hapi)iness,  a  lower  good  than  holiness, 
187,  188. 
as  affected  by  conscience,  289,  290. 
connected  with  Christ,  52,  127  sqq., 

205,  252. 
connected  with  God's  glory,  183, 195. 


384 


INDEX. 


Happiness,  connected  with  happiness 
of  others,  199. 

connected  with  holiness,  185,  189. 

in  heaven,  73,  205  sqq.,  360  sqq.,  376, 
377. 

kinds  of,  159. 

not  attained  in  worldly  pursuits,  356 
sqq. 

of  Christians,  as   related   to    God's 
eternity,  147  sqq. 

of  creatures,  God's  regard  for,  158, 
185. 

of  God,  as  related  to  his  eternity, 
141,  142. 

of  God  before  and  after  the  creation, 
201  n.  2. 

of  God  in  contemplating  his  plans, 
148. 

of  God.  intensity  of,  182.  . 

of  God  promoted  by  creation,  182. 

of  God  promoted  by  exercising  his 
attributes,  79,  80,  183  sqq. 

of  God   promoted  by  happiness  of 
creatures,  185  sqq.,  198  sqq. 

of  God  promoted  still  more  by  holi- 
ness of  creatures,  187  sqq.,  200, 201. 

of  nations  promoted  by  the  clergy, 
3  sqq. 

of  nations  related  to  their  security,  3. 

of  universe  promoted  by  God's  hap- 
piness, 183,  185  sqq. 

of  universe  promoted  by  God's  reve- 
lation of  himself,  76,  77. 

resulting  from  the  atonement,  206. 

resulting  from  the  moral  system,  229. 
Harmony,  of  conscience  and  the  Bible, 
270n.  1. 

of  divine  attributes,  140  sqq. 

of  nature  with  the  Christian's  feel- 
ings, 89  sqq. 

of  the   atonement  with   the  divine 
government  in  general,  84. 
Harrington's  Political  Aphorisms  quo- 
ted, 18. 
Hatred  of  sin,  alternate  form  of  love  of 
holiness,  158,  177. 

felt  by  God,  168. 

felt  by  man,  177. 
Heathen,  conscience  of,  260,  261. 
Heaven,  analogies  between  Eden  and, 
231. 

a  school  of  learning,  204,  205,  361, 
362. 

close  at  hand,  371. 

conditions  of  reaching,  164. 

death  of  friends  attracting  men  to, 
331. 

happiness  in,  73,  205  sqq.,  360  sqq., 
376,  377. 


Heaven,  motives  attracting  Christ  to, 
331,  332. 

music  in,  363  n. 
Heavens,  beauty  of  Oriental,  69,  70. 

Buxton  on  eloquence  of,  8. 

revealing  God.     See  Table  of  Con- 
tents, Sermon  IH.,  The  Revelation 
of  God  in  his  Works. 
Hill,  Dr.  Thomas,  quoted,  363  n. 
History,   and   prophecy   in   regard   to 
Christ  contrasted,  110,  111. 

compared  to  the  century  plant,  92. 

neglects  the  clergy  and  schoolmaster, 
5,  6. 

of  Christ.     See  Gospel. 

proving  God's  benevolence,  160  sqq. 
Holiness,  a  greater  good  than  happi- 
ness, 187,  188. 

appreciated    by   contrast    with    sin, 
222. 

comprehended  in  love.     See  Table 
of  Contents,  Sermon  VH. 

connected  with  God's  glory,  195  sqq. 

connected  with  happiness,  185,  189. 

has  no  merit  of  condignity  in  any 
mere  man,  160,  292,  293. 

incentives  to,  173,  226. 

influencing   the  intellect,  298,  316, 
322  sqq.,  366. 

of  Christians  has  its  source  in  Christ, 
119,  125. 

of  creatures,  promoting  God's  happi- 
ness, 187  sqq.,  200,  201. 

of  creatures,  universe  created  for,  187, 
188. 

of  God  eternal,  141  sqq. 

of  God  satisfying  the  righteous,  365- 
367. 

promoted  by  considering  God's  attri- 
butes, 189  sqq. 

virtually  adopted  when  sympathized 
with,  124. 

See  Conscience. 
Humanity  of  Christ,  109,297,322.    See 
Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  XH., 
Influences  affecting  the  Character 
of  Christ  considered  as  a  Man. 
Humboldt  quoted,  260. 
Hume  quoted,  4,  21  n.  2. 
Humilitv,  150.  253. 

of  Christ,  314. 
Hupfeld  referred  to,  367  n. 

I. 

Ideal  man  realized  in  Christ,  95,  374. 
Ideas,  association  of,  a  principle  used 

in  the  divine  government,  222-226. 
Image  of  God  in  godly  men,  118,  367 

sqq.,  371,  372. 


INDEX. 


885 


Iinaf^ination   interested  in  the  atone- 
ment, 59,  60. 
Immortality,  as  possessed  by  God  only, 

140. 
'     Old  Testament  ideas  of,  374,  375. 
suiiirested  by  conscience,  281-283. 
Immutability,  of  conscience,  151. 

of  God,  141,  290. 
Impenitent,   God's  love  showing  the 

puiltof,  168. 
Incarnation,  purpose  of,  194,  195,  351. 
Incom])rehensibleness  of  God,  137, 144. 
Independence  of  the  Creator  as  to  his 

creatures,  199-201. 
Infidel,  objections  to  God's  government, 
171,  172. 
repujrnance  to  human  immortality, 
282,  283. 
Influences,  affecting  the  character  of 
Christ  considered  as  a  man,  297- 
327.     See  Table  of  Contents,  Ser- 
mon XII. 
exerted  by   the  clergy,   1-44.     See 
Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  I.,  The 
Indebtedness  of  the  State  to  the 
Clergy, 
exerted  by  the  poor,  247  sqq. 
of  conscience  on  character  and  vice 
versa,  285-290. 
Innate  tendency  to   trust  conscience, 

281. 
Inspiration  indicated  in  Gen.  3  :  13-19, 

210. 
Intellect,  influence  of  holiness  upon, 
298,  316,  322  sqq,  366. 
influence  of  the  clergy  upon,  6-14, 

40-44. 
of  God  satisfying  the  righteous,  361, 
362. 
Internal  evidence  for  the  gospel,  235. 


John  the  Baptist,  his  message  to  Christ, 

235  sqq. 
Judgment,  day  of,  275,  295, 
Judgments  of  conscience.     See   Con- 
science. 
Jurists  influenced  by   the   clergy,  40 

sqq. 
Justice,  of  God,  81  sqq. 

of  God,  his  choice  to  comply  with 

conscience,  283. 
of  God,  shown  in  the  moral  system, 

218  sqq. 
of  God  spoken  of  in  the  Bible  as  con- 
science is  spoken  of  by  the  poets, 
168,271,  272. 
reli:rion  promotes  the  execution  of, 
20. 


Justice,  retributive,  a  distinct  and  pe- 
culiar form  of  benevolence,   159, 
176-180. 
See  Atonement,  Distributive,   Gen- 
eral, Retributive. 

K. 

Kant  quoted,  269  n. 
Kingdom   of  Christ,    Christians    par- 
takers in,  130,  131. 
Kings,  Baxter  on  authority  of,  27  n.  1. 

Plato  on  conscience  of,  278. 
Know,  meaning  of,  in  1  Cor.  2  :  2,  46. 
Knowledge,  Baxter  on  unsatisfactori- 
ness  of,  358,  359. 
connected  with  religion,  10. 
has  its  sovirce  in  God's  wisdom,  10, 

196,  197,  362. 
progress  in,  362. 
promoted  bv  holiness,   7,  298,  299, 

316,  322  sqq.,  366. 
resuscitated,  273  sqq. 
to  be  acquired  in  heaven,  204,  205, 

361,  362. 
See  Education. 
Korah,  221,  222, 


Lamartine  at  Nazareth,  303. 
Language,  corrupted  by  men,  190, 191. 

God  the  author  of,  74,  246. 

inadequate  to  express  God's  charac- 
ter, 168, 184,  190,  191,  361  sqq. 

rhythmical,   natural    in    expressing 
great  ideas,  234. 

used   to   describe   God's  justice  no 
more  severe  than  poets  use  of  con- 
science, 168,  271,  272. 
Law,  appreciated  in  view  of  the  evil  of 
sin,  222,  258. 

civil,  sustained  and  ameliorated  by 
the  clergy,  1 6-33. 

connected  with  Christ,  51. 

conscience  giving  idea  of  the  moral, 
263. 

fullilled  by  love,  157,  158. 

necessitv  that  God  express  his  regard 
for,  88. 

obedience  to  civil,  16  sqq. 

of  God  honored  in   the  atonement, 
85,  86,  289,  346  sqq. 

of  nature  and  mind  tlie  language  of 
God,  70  sqq.,  82,  90  sqq.,  361-364. 

simplicity  of  moral,  163,  164. 
Layman's  duties  essentially  the  same 

as  the  clergyman's,  48,  67,  68. 
Leighton  quoted,  165. 
Libcrtv,  Ilumc  on  relation  of  clergy  to, 
21  n.  2. 


386 


INDEX. 


Licber's  Political  Ethics  quoted,  14  n. 
Life,  brevity  of,  153,  154. 

compared  to  a  sleep,  359,  360. 

solemnity    of,    in   view   of  political 
duties,  31,  32. 
Literature  indebted  to  the  clergy,  6-10, 

40-44. 
Locke,  Chillingworth  recommended  by, 
40. 

referred  to,  296. 
Lord's  supper  symbolical  of  the  atone- 
ment, 124,  233. 
Love,  between  Christ  and  Christians, 
124-127. 

Christ's,  a  constraining  influence,  64, 
101,  105. 

comprehends  all  God's  moral  attri- 
butes, 1 55-1 80.  See  Table  of  Con- 
tents, Sermon  VII. 

connected  with  faith,  164,  171  sqq., 
258. 

divine,  56,  88,  149,  150,  365,  366. 

divine,  biblical  portrayals  of,  207. 

divine,  central  fact,  56,  172. 

divine,  explaining  doctrine  of  pun- 
ishment, 159,  165  sqq.,  177  sqq., 
348. 

divine,  expressions  of,  75-81. 

God's  pleasure  in,  185. 

hatred  of  sin,  alternate  form  of,  158 
sqq.,  177,  178,  366. 

promotes  unity,  125,  132. 

See  Benevolence. 

M. 

Macaulay  quoted,  25  n. 
Man,  Christ  the  ideal,  95,  374. 

conscience  characteristic  of,  260,  261, 

268. 
God's  eternity  contrasted  with  life 

of,  153,  154. 
influences  upon,  210-233.     See  Ta- 
ble of  Contents,  Sermon  IX.,  The 
System   of    Moral   Influences    in 
which  Men  are  placed, 
relifrious  sentiment  in,  3,  4,  32. 
Martineau,  Dr.  James,  im])ortant  quo- 
tation from,  2G3  n.  2,  293. 
Massillon,  eloquence  of,  242. 
Memory,  Coleridge  quoted  on,  295,296. 

tenacity  of,  269-276,  285,  295,  296. 
Mercy,  158,  229  sqq.,  283  n.  2.     See 

Grace. 
Merit,   of  condignity  and    congruity, 
160,  292,  293. 
of  condignity  possessed  by   Christ, 

179. 
perceived    and    approved    by    con- 
science, 263  sqq. 


Messiahship,   proofs  of   Christ's,   235 

sqq.,  245,  255  sqq. 
Mind,  activity  of,  2G9-272,  296. 

expanded  by  thought  of  God's  eter- 
nity, 142-144. 
expresses  God's  character,  70  sqq.,  82, 

197,  361-364. 
faculties  of,  interested  in  the  atone- 
ment, 59  sqq. 
greatness    conferred   upon,  by  con- 
science, 2G6  sqq. 
See  Intellect,  Sensibilities. 
Ministry.     See  Clergy. 
Miracles  of  Christ,  234,  235,  256. 
Missionaries,  influence  of,  16,  37,  105, 
228. 
rising  from  poverty,  250,  251. 
Model,  Christ  the  perfect,  127  sqq.,  319 

-321. 
Monotony  an  element  in  punishment, 

83,  150  sqq. 
Moral,  and  natural  beauty,  363-365. 
and  positive  retributions,  376,  377. 

See  Punishment, 
faculty.     See  Conscience, 
judgments,  number  of,  269-272. 
restraint  exercised  by  the  clergy,  37, 

38. 
See  Attributes,  Influences,  Law. 
Music  in  heaven,  363  n. 
Mystery,  adaptation  of  mind  for,  113- 
116. 
of  Christ's  history,  113-116. 
of  Christ's  sorrow  in  view  of  death, 
328-355.     See  Table  of  Contents, 
Sermon  XIII. 
of  sin,  not  in  punishment,  but  in  for- 
giveness, 113,  114,  284. 

N. 
Nature,  69-96,  181-209.  See  Table  of 
Contents,  Sermons  III.,  The  Reve- 
lation of  God  in  his  Works  ;  and 
\TII.,  The  Design  of  God  in  his 
Work  of  Creation. 

analogies  between  the  cross  and,  92. 

and  Christ,  51. 

conscience  gives  dignity  to  human, 
266  sqq. 

Edwards  quoted  on,  89  sqq. 

gives  added  pleasure  when  regarded 
as  God's  work,  189,  190. 

gospel  supplements  teaching  of,  236. 

influence  of,  on  Christ  as  man,  303- 
305. 

laws  of,  the  language  of  God,  70,  71, 
90  sqq. 

mutual  influences  of  man  and,  211 
sqq. 


IKDEX. 


38T 


Nature,  objections  raised  against  God's 
government  in,  171-173. 
See  Character,  Christ,  God. 
New  Testament,  and  Old,  in  regard  to 
Christ,  110. 
exphiininij:  the  Old,  37.5. 
Newton,  Joini,  literature  influenced  by, 

43,  44,  246. 
Nineveh,  God's  treatment  of,  162,  229. 

O. 

Obedience,  Christ's  active  and  passive, 
97,  233 
to  a  bad  law  exceptional,  22  sqq. 
to  law,  16  sqq. 

Objections  W  God's  government,  171- 
173. 
to  universe  being  created  for  God's 
glory,  196  sqq. 

Oblii^ation    perceived    by   conscience, 
262. 

Obscure  forces  exerting  mighty  influ- 
ences, 1,  13. 

Occupations  ofmen  influencing  Christ's 
development,  299-302. 

Old  South  Church,  Boston,  Mass.,  29, 
69  n.,  89,  95,  96. 

Old  Testament,  and  New,  in  regard  to 
Christ,  HO. 
explained  by  the  New,  375. 

Omnipotenoo,     expressed     by     God's 
works,  79. 
God's    eternity  inferred    from    his, 
139,  140. 

Omnipresence,  122,  152. 

Omniscience,    140,    141.      See    Fore- 
knowledge. 

Orators.     See  Eloquence. 


Pain,  connection  of,  with  sin,  219. 
purpose  of,  84,  217,  218. 
See  Sufferings. 
Palestine,  illustrating  the  Bible,  300 
sqq. 
life  in,  as  influencing  Christ,  299  sqq. 
See   Talile   of  Contents,   Sermon 
XII.,  Influences  affeetinc:  the  Char- 
acter of  Christ   considered  as   a 
Man. 
Parents   and   children,   mutual    influ- 
ences of,  218  sqq. 
Parkman,  Dr.,  murder  of,  20,  21. 
Participation   of  believers,  in  Clirist's 
s])irit,    117-136.      See    Table    of 
Contents,  Sermon  V.,  Union  with 
Christ. 
m  God's  image,  118,  367  sqq.,  371 
sqq. 


Passive  virtues  fostered  by  the  gospel, 

98. 
Patrick,  Bishop,  quoted,  288. 
Patriotism,  13  sqq. 

Berkeley  quoted  on,  15  n.  2. 
fostered  by  the  clergy,  33  sqq. 
taught  by  Christ  and  Paul,  36. 
Paul,  at  Corinth,  63. 
character   of  preaching   by,   45-68. 
See   Table  of  Contents,   Sermon 
II.,  The  Prominence  of  the  Atone- 
ment, 
patriotism  taught  by,  36. 
Perfection  of  Christ's  character,  319- 

325. 
Perfections  of  God.     See  Attributes. 
Perseverance  of  saints,  126,  127. 
Philosophers  and   poets   interested  in 
Christ's  character  and  work,  59-61. 
Philosophy  in  poetry,  271. 
Pitt,  William,  244  n. 
Plan,  power  of  a,  63  sqq. 
Plato  quoted,  278. 
Plotinus  quoted,  295,  296. 
Poets,  and  philosophers  interested  in 
Christ's  character  and  work,  59- 
61. 
ascribe  to  conscience  the  severity  as- 
cribed by  the  Bible  to  God's  jus- 
tice, 168,  271,  272. 
inspired  in  their  explanation  of  na- 
ture's laws,  72,  73. 
rising  from  poverty,  249. 
true  philosophers,  271. 
Political  virtues  promoted  by  the  clergy, 

14  sqq. 
Poor,   247-259.      See   Table  of  Con- 
tents,   Sermon    X.,    The    Gospel 
preached  to  the  Poor, 
labors  ofthe  clergy  among,  12, 13,34. 
Positive  and  moral  retributions,  376, 

377.     See  Punishment. 
Prayer,  96,  124. 

in  the  first  Congress  and  in  the  1787 
Ccmvention,  19  n. 
Preaching,  effect  of,  increased  by  seeing 
the  preacher,  7  n.  2,  237  sqq. 
effect  of,  increased   by  the  circum- 
stances of  delivery,  7,  8,  241  sqq. 
institution    of,    a   proof  of  Christ's 

Messiahship,  234,  235,  245,  246. 
more   powerful   than   writings,   237 

sqq. 
See  Clergy. 
Pride,  Christ's  temptations  to,  314. 
Princeton  College  and  David  I3rainerd, 

44. 
Promises  of  God  sustaining  men  in 
sufifering,  334,  335. 


888 


INDEX. 


Prophecy,  and  history,  in  regard  to 
Christ  contrasted,  110. 

Christ's  fulfilment  of,  235,  256. 

of  Christ's  death,  333. 

of  Christ's  exaltation,  314. 
Propitiatory  nature  of  Christ's  suffer- 
ings, 345  sqq. 
Proportion   in   which    the   gospel   ad- 
dresses different  sensibilities,  100- 
102. 
Providence  of  God  sustaining  men  in 

suffering,  334,  335. 
Publicity  of  suffering  as  affecting  cour- 
age, 332,  333. 
Punishment,  atonement  equivalent  to 
the  threatened,  85,   86,   289,  345 
sqq.  . 

connected  with  God's  eternity,  150 
sqq. 

death  a  symbol  of  future,  342. 

demanded  by  conscience,    151,    176 
sqq.,  263  sqq.,  277  sqq.,  292. 

doctrine  of,  founded  in  human  con- 
stitution, 82  sqq. 

eternal,  83  sqq.,  104,  150  sqq.,  169 
sqq. 

explained  by   benevolence,   20,   159 
sqq.,  165  sqq.,  177  sqq.,  348. 

magnifying  Christ's  gi-ace,  104. 

monotony  an  element  in,  83,  150  sqq. 

moral  and  positive,  376,  377. 

reasonableness  of,  81  sqq.,  112-114, 
284. 

reasons  for  inflicting,  84,  177  sqq. 

remorse  an  element  in,  73.  170,  284. 
;    sentence  of,  from  Christ,  52, 108,  343, 
347. 

E. 

Reasonableness  of  God's  administra- 
tion, 81  sqq.  * 

Reid,  Dr.  Thomas,  referred  to,  292,  294. 1 

Religion,  ardor  inspired  l)y,  7  n.  1, 
benefiting  a  land,  16,  37,  228. 
See  Holiness. 

Religious  sentiment,  3,  4,  32. 

Republic,  advantages  of,  34  sqq. 

Responsibility  of  individuals  as  related 
to  civil  law,  30-32. 

ResuiTcction,  135. 
Old  Testament  views  on,  374,  375. 

Retributive  justice,  176  sqq  ,  283  n.  2. 

Revelation  of  God  in  his  works,  69-96. 
See  Tal)le  of  Contents,  Sermon 
III. ;  and  Sermon  VTII.,  The  De- 
sign of  God  in  his  Work  of  Cre- 
ation. 

Reverence  for  God  increased  by  his 
eternity,  1 42,  143. 


Revolution,  right  of,  29,  30. 
Keward,  anticipated  by  conscience,  81, 
263  sqq.,  277. 
of  Christ,    175,  194,  195,   318,  334, 

351,  352-355. 
related  to  God's  eternity,  147  sqq. 
See  Heaven,  Merit. 
Eight,   261   sqq.     See  Table  of  Con- 
tents, Sermon  XI.,  Conscience. 
Righteous  man's  satisfaction  with  the 
character  of  God,  356-377.     See 
Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  XIV. 

S. 
Sacrifices  and  the  atonement,  175,  233, 

312  sqq.,  333,  345  sqq. 
Sadi  quoted,  278. 
Salaries  of  ministers,  37  n.  1. 
Satisfaction,  356-377.      See  Table  of 
Contents,     Sermon     XIV.,     The 
Eighteous  Man's  Satisfaction  with 
the  Character  of  God. 
Schiller  quoted,  124,  132. 
Schleiermacher,  34. 
School,  heaven  a,  204,  205,  361,  362. 

the  church  a,  7. 
Sciences,  and  the  clergy,  10. 
have  their  source  in  God's  wisdom, 
10,  196,  197,  362. 
Scientists  rising  from  poverty,  249. 
Sears,  Pres.,  quoted,  12  n. 
Self-existence,  divine,  139,  141,  145. 
Selfishness,  132. 
Self-revelation  a  law  of  sentient  beings, 

79,  80. 
Sensibilities,  affected  by  Christ's  his- 
tory, 98  sqq. 
of  God  satisfying  the  righteous  man, 
363-365. 
Sensitiveness  of  Christ's  nature,  339. 
Sentiment,  religious,  3,  4,  32. 
Sentiments  connected  with  choices,  176, 

283  n.  2. 
Severity  of  biblical  description  of  God's 
justice  resembling  poetical  descrip- 
tions of  conscience,  168,  271,  272. 
Shakespeare  quoted,  284  n. 
Sin,  affecting   the  intellect,  298,  299, 
322  sqq. 
atonement  appreciated  in  view  of  evil 

of,  57,  104,  222,  258. 
cause  of  God's  desertion  of  men,  349. 
Christ's  sorrow  arising  from  consid- 
eration of,  342  sqq. 
compunction  for,  eternal,  151. 
conscience  hardened  by,  343. 
dicnity  of  man  indicated  by  evil  of, 

'268. 
divine  abhorrence  of,  82, 168, 343  sqq. 


INDEX. 


389 


Sin,  evil  of,  illustrated  by  God's  love, 
1G8  sqq.,  236,  258. 
evil  of,  illustrated  by  moral  system, 

222  S(i(i. 
folly  of,  141. 

hatred  of,  alternate  form  of  benevo- 
lence, 158  sqq  ,  177,  178,  366. 
mvstery  in  forgiveness  of,  113,  114, 

284. 
nature  of,  163,  180,  271. 
pain  connected  with,  84,  219. 
Sinlessness  of  Christ,  329,  330. 
Slandering  our  rulers,  22  n. 
Sleep,  death  represented  as  a,  375. 
Sodom.  God's  treatment  of,  161. 
Solemnity  of  life  in  view  of  political 

duties,  31,  32. 
Sorrow  of  the  Redeemer  in  anticipation 
of  his  death,  328-355.     See  Table 
of  Contents,  Sermon  XIII. 
Soul,  atonement  adapted  to  constitu- 
tion of,  92  sqq. 
dignity  of,  77,  268. 
South  quoted,  33  n.  1.,  37  n.  1.,  38  n., 

325. 
Sovereigntv,  divine,  connected  with  the 
gospel,  50,  104. 
faith  in,  stimulated  by  observation  of 
the  moral  system,  217  sqq. 
Spirit,  of  believers  and  Christ  the  same, 
117  sqq. 
of  God  influencing  Christ's  develop- 
ment, 318,319,  323,  324. 
of   God  influencing  men,  261,  372 
sqq. 
State.  1-44.     See  Table  of  Contents, 
Sermon  I.,  The  Indebtedness  of 
the  State  to  the  Clergy. 
See  Government,  Law. 
Statesmen  rising  from  poverty,  250. 
Stewart,  Dugald,  on  Robert  Hall,  41. 

quoted,  292,  294,  296. 
Stowe,  Prof.,  quoted,  11  n. 
Stuart,  Moses,  quoted,  322. 
Substitute  for  the  penalty  of  sinners, 
Clirist's  sufferings  a,  85,  86,  289, 
345  S(iq. 
Sufferings  of  Christ,  328-355. 

unrelieved  by   his  conscience,  290, 
291,329. 
Superiority  of  men  affecting  their  con- 
duct in  view  of  death,  330. 
Symbols,  71,  92.  124,  214  n  ,  .342. 
Symmetry,  of  Christ's  nature,  98, 328. 

of  moral  law,  163,  164. 
Sympathy,  appealed  to  in  preaching, 
241. 
of  Christ  with  men,  324,  339,  sqq. 
of  Christians,  136. 


Sympathy  with  holiness,  virtual  holi- 
ness, 124. 

Synagogues,  Christ's  attendance  at, 
309  sqq. 

System  of  moral  influences  in  which 
men  are  placed,  210-233.  See 
Table  of  Contents,  Sermon  IX. 

T. 

Taylor  Jeremv,  quoted,  243. 
Teacher,  Chrfst  a  reliable,  323,  324. 
Temperament,  a  term  inapplicable  to 

Christ,  98. 
Temple,  Christ  in  the,  312,  313. 
Temptations     of     Christ,    313-316, 

325-327. 
Tenacity  of  the  moral  sense,  269  -  276, 

285,  295,  296. 
Tendency,  of  the  clerical  office,  2. 

to  trust  in  the  moral  faculty,  281. 
Testaments,  Old  and  New,  in  regard 
to  Christ,  110. 
relations  of,  375. 
Theologians  rising  from  poverty,  250. 
Tillotson's  influence  on  literature,  41. 
Trinity,  112,  148. 

self-existence,  may  necessitate,  145. 
Truth,  Christ  the  objective,  106,  122, 
123. 
communicated  as  a  personal  favor, 

104,  105. 
communicated  in  sensible  images,l  05 
in  the  gospel  without  error,  236. 
the  gospel  the  centre  of,  112. 
See  Veracity. 

Union,  of  social  classes  affected  by  the 
gospel,  254  sqq. 
With  Christ,  1 17  -  136.     See  Table 
of  Contents,  Sermon  V. 
United  States,  34,  35. 
Unity,  of  doctrines  in  the  atonement, 
53  sqq.,  112,  113,  258. 
of  God's  character  and  law,  163, 164. 
promoted  by  love,  125, 132. 
Universe.    See  Creation. 

V. 

Variety  of  truths  involved  in  Christ's 
character  and  work,  50  sqq.,  112, 
113,  258. 

Veracity,  a  divine  attribute,  160. 

Vicarious  character  of  Christ's  suffer- 
ings, 85,  86,  289,  345  sqq. 

Virtues,  active  and  passive  fostered  by 
the  gospel,  98. 
political,  fostered  by  the  clergy  14 
sqq. 


300 


INDEX. 


Vocabulary  of  a  people  influenced  by 

the  clergy,  14. 
Volitions,  in  rapid  movements  of  the 

body,  294,  295. 
number  of,  in  relation  to  moral  acts, 

269-272. 
Voltaire  quoted,  242. 

W. 

Walton,  Izaak,  quoted,  253. 

influenced  by  Herbert,  41,  42, 
Wants,  rational,  indicate  their  supply, 

17,  361. 
Washington  quoted,  36  n. 
Webster,  Daniel,  quoted,  19  n. 
Webster,  Prof.  John  W,  20,  21. 
Welfare,  benevolence  a  prefei-ence  for 

sentient  beings'.    See  Benevolence. 


Welfare,  of  universe  promoted  by  rev- 
elation of  God's  attributes,  76sqq., 
87  sqq.,  185  sqq. 
well-being,  well-doing,  159  n. 

West,  Dr.  Stephen,  lawyers  influenced 
by,  42.  , 

Whiclicote's  Aphorisms  quoted,  182  n. 

Wliitcfield,  literature  influenced  by,  44. 

Wilberforce,  43. 

Wood,  Dr.,  influence  of,  on  education, 
43. 

Words,  of  Christ,  how  to  be  interpreted, 
352  sqq. 
power  of,  238  sqq.     See  Language. 

Works  of  God.     iSee  Creation. 

Worship  of  God  influencing  Christ's 
development,  308  sqq. 

Writings,  power  of,  237,  238. 


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